Andrea & HarrybyParisWaterman©
Andrea stood at the left corner of the stage at Ibiza's enjoying the 11:30 set, quaffing down the last of the beer that she had been nursing. She was a fine looking woman, just this side of thirty, with a medium-length haircut that suited her; black hair all fluffed out, shorter on the sides and hitting her shoulders in the back. The black hair was a nice contrast to her pale-white skin. She wore ankle high black boots with a short, tight skirt, black stockings, and a jean jacket over a purple sweater. She also was wearing thick black eyeliner, and that suited her.
She had not intended to be clubbing this particular evening, but circumstances had changed things. Her boss had kept her working late at the office, but on the upside, the overtime money would help make a dent in her debts. That had kept her from changing into her club gear, but she figured what she was wearing was passable, and she didn't mind all that much.
Harry, her last minute date, wasn't very proficient at dancing, and with all the young bitches so anxious to impress by throwing themselves at any available guys within proximity, no one else had bothered to ask her to dance. Not that she minded. She'd done the same thing herself at that age, so wearing the boots, while not fit for normal clubbing, weren't a deterrent at all.
Out of the corner of her eye, Andrea saw him -- Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. He was standing in the far corner, talking to another guy. Before she could look away, he looked in her direction and caught her looking at him. Something came over her, and she smiled at him. He returned the smile, and for a split second, Andrea thought he had a predatory look about him. But as his smile widened, she let that thought go; fixing instead on his hard body. And then, realizing that Harry would be back any second, she broke the connection between them, glancing down, pretending to concentrate on her shoes.
Harry was pushing his way toward her through the crowd, a couple of Buds in his upraised hands. He was trying to get to her, but not having much success with the dancers and watchers who clogged the way. Harry was in his late thirties, but reasonably fit. He worked out faithfully at Gold's every Tuesday and Thursday. He tried to dress younger than he really was, but couldn't carry it off. Still and all, he made decent money, and that showed even if his clothing didn't.
He managed to squeeze past two young teens, neither of which was anywhere close to 18, and in doing so, caused one's right breast to climb out of her top, not that it wouldn't have eventually; he had just hastened its course. The girl knew what had happened but did nothing about it, preferring to wait to see if it attracted anyone worthwhile. She was certainly not in the least interested in Harry, and smirked at her girlfriend who giggled inanely in return.
Andrea accepted the Bud, putting the stranger out her mind, and found herself laughing at the girl's antics. "She has a nice set," she said to Harry.
"What?" Harry said, somewhat puzzled.
"The girl you just eased past, you dislodged one of her tits."
He spun around and gawked at the teenager. "I did that?"
"Why doesn't she put it back?"
"She doesn't want to. Since she didn't do it, she's taking advantage of the fact, and acting like she doesn't know it's flopping about."
"It's not exactly flopping, not that big, really," he said, losing interest in the young teen. He turned back to Andrea. His eyes swooped in on her breasts. "Not like yours would, baby."
She acknowledged the compliment with a smile, leaned back against the wall and finished off her beer. Her forehead was bulleted with sweat because the place was ass-to-ass bodies, and humid as hell, smelling something like a cross between piss and perspiration. But the club definitely had the best music in town.
After another beer, and another brief flirtation with Mr. T. D. H, while Harry went for said libation, the set ended. Harry leaned into Andrea, and told her it was time to go. There was another place up in Ogden that he wanted her to see. Andrea shrugged, said all right, and they left.
Once outside, they felt the electric shock of cool air against their sweaty bodies. He put his arm around her to warm her as they walked east on Market. Then he stopped, turned her toward him, and kissed her at the entrance of an alley.
At the outset of the kiss, Andrea realized it had been almost two months since she had been laid, a wanton warmth quickly spread from her loins to her chest. Her tongue, rough as a cat's, slid across his, and then started brushing his teeth. Harry felt the warmth of her groin as he pushed himself against her. She moved back against him, and they dry humped each other for a minute or so, before Andrea gave a lewd laugh, and put some distance between them. She brushed a lick of damp hair away from her face, and smiled lewdly. Her lust was evident to Harry and his to her.
"Want me to do you here and now?" she asked, surprising him with her bluntness.
"Sure," he said, and steered her into the alley itself. He leaned against the wall because his legs had suddenly gone weak.
Andrea reached into her purse, and extracted something that looked like an elongated wallet, placed it on the ground and knelt down on it.
"Save's me buyin' a new pair of hose," she said. Looking up at him, she reached for the zipper of his fly and pulled it down.
Harry closed his eyes.
Andrea fished inside his jeans for a moment, had him in her hand, but encountered difficulties in removing him from the tight confinement of his jeans.
"Here, let me," Harry said, and overriding her hand, brought his cock out into the open.
"It's a nice one," Andrea said. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled his smell, a mix of musk, sweat and sex.
"You're beautiful baby, just fuckin' beautiful," Harry murmured, as he leaned down to cup a breast through her purple sweater, and fondled it.
"Wanna see 'em?" she asked in a husky, wanton tone.
"Oh, yeah, let's see 'em."
With a well-practiced gesture, she hauled her sweater up to her neck, and quickly pulled her bra up next to it, not bothering to unfasten it or remove it. Harry stared at her twin globes, and the dark nipples that hung like plums on her smallish, but lovely white breasts. Then, as if drawn by a magnet, his hands moved to them. His fingers went to her nipples which shot out stiff and hard against his palms.
She moaned, gratified at his touch.
He groaned, marveling at their pebbled hardness, and began to massage them.
Andrea reached for him, gave him a squeeze, and it was her turn to marvel as he grew harder, and longer within her clenched fist. She looked down past his hands on her tits to his rigid cock, and her pupils widened as she watched him grow.
Harry was possessed of a rather large penis, roughly seven inches in length, and fairly thick, especially toward the middle of his shaft. Andrea noted that he was not circumcised, a first for her. All eight of her other lovers had undergone the knife, and she realized that she had a curious desire to taste him to see if he tasted any differently than the others.
She stroked him for a while, as his mouth paid homage to her plumy buds. From time to time, she moaned from the wonderful sensations he was eliciting from her succulent nipples.
She waited patiently for Harry to relinquish her breasts, and when he did, she carefully peeled back his foreskin, and after a practice turn at angling her neck to deep throat it, parted her lips and absorbed his penis in her mouth and began to suck it.
"Ahhhhhh, that's the way, baby!" He groaned, as her tongue laved the length of his cockhead.
Andrea appreciated his praise, and strove harder to please him, her head bobbing up and down between his legs, sucking harder, licking faster.
Harry found her mouth incredible; unbelievably warm and inviting. Andrea found him just as delectable. She was convinced that he did taste differently from the others, and tried to figure out just what made him so. But she soon put that aside, as she lost herself in the joy derived from fellatio, sucking him avidly, swirling, licking and sucking, sucking, sucking.
Harry moaned in vulgar appreciation as her hand cupped his testicles, tickling them, and then drawing her long nails along the tender flesh in a light, scratching circular pattern.
Feeling euphoric with power to pleasure him, she began to hum contentedly. Then Andrea changed tactics, taking him deep down into her throat until his pubic hair brushed against her lips. She removed his cock and began rubbing it over her face, tormenting the both of them.
Her eyes were shut, and her face flushed with lust. Harry moaned softly while Andrea made mewling sounds as she licked the underside of his turgid prick. Then, with an almost hungry snarl, she resumed sucking his cock again, gulping twice as his sword plunged down her throat.
Moments later, her hand was a blur, stroking him as she fellated him. She wondered when this magnificent, velvety hunk of steely flesh would gift her with its load. Andrea had long before made the decision to swallow, although she had never done so before. She felt him give an extra twitch, and quickly seized his ass cheeks firmly, pulling him even closer. She giggled on feeling his balls bang against her chin.
Harry, lost in the throes of his impending orgasm, continued to fuck her face; his hot, throbbing prick glistened in the dim lighting provided by a distant street light, as it slid in and out of her mouth. He leaned over to recapture and squeeze her nipples, finding them firmer than ever and somewhat elongated.
He pinched them in turn, causing Andrea to moan loudly, despite her fear of being discovered by a passerby. Lost in her lust, she held him in her mouth with one hand, while the other slipped into her pantyhose to seek out the swampy morass that was her cunt. But her position denied her the pleasure she sought, and so, still kneeling, she spread her legs even further apart. Now one knee was no longer protected by the small pad she had been kneeling on. Within seconds, the rough pavement had torn a gash in her pantyhose at the knee.
Harry looked down in awe, and in what he later considered the most wonderfully obscene gesture he'd ever seen, she ripped a hole through her pantyhose to reach her objective — and placed three, then four fingers inside herself.
He croaked hoarsely, "Baby, go for it, get the whole hand in there!"
She stopped sucking his cock for a minute, to whine piteously, "Harry... please... would you lick my pussy?"
"Go for it first, Andrea!" he said, not believing he could bring himself to ask it of her. And then, seeing her make the attempt, rasped, "Get that fist in there!"
As Andrea continued forcing her fingers into her sopping cunt, Harry wiped his brow, and flicked it into her hair.
Andrea sat back on her haunches and looked up at him; and with a lewd smirk, jerked her legs wider apart, enlarged the tear in her hose, and then raised her knees slightly, and with a fierce grimace, forced her thumb in with the others.
"Jesus Christ!" Harry gasped. His prick jerked twice, although no one was touching or holding it.
Moaning all the while, Andrea began to turn her wrist this way and that and it wasn't long before she managed to get her hand in up to the wrist.
Then she gave Harry an incredulous look, as if to ask, "What now?"
Harry gave an obscene cackle and dropped to his knees next to her, oblivious of the detritus under his knees. He kissed her hard. She bit his lower lip and drew blood -- then sucked it into her mouth and swallowed it. Andrea's hand emerged from her hole with a soft, squishy pop, and almost immediately her tongue flashed into his mouth with a crazed frenzy. Harry pulled away to gasp for much needed air, then said, "C'mon, you're this hot you must want it up your ass too."
Andrea was game, but wanted him to fuck her first. She felt empty now that her hand was no longer churning around inside of her. She tried to get up, but failed. Her fisting had played hell with her balance, and Harry had to help her to her knees first, and after making it to her feet, she leaned against the filthy wall in the position usually requested by the police when searching a suspect.
Harry, still helping to support her, yanked her shredded pantyhose down to her ankles and Andrea shifted slightly, presenting her rear to him. At that moment she didn't care which hole he went for, she just wanted his cock inside her. She needed a cock in her. She was close to coming, and didn't want to lose out on that wonderful sensation. Yet in the back of her mind she was planning on sticking a dildo up her ass while fisting herself later on that evening.
'God," she thought, 'that fisting felt so incredibly good, I can't... '
But the stimulation of Harry's finger circling her puckered pinkish anus, forced her concentration back to the moment.
"Oh, shit! Harry that feels..."
He was kissing her asshole. That was his tongue she felt!
"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!"
His tongue was wriggling around inside her ass! She couldn't believe it.
'Who was this guy?' she asked herself, and then pushed her ass back at him and moaned as his tongue went even deeper into her rectum.
Andrea began to writhe, "Oh, Jesus! Harry... that feels great!"
"UMMM," Harry murmured, not daring to remove his mouth because he didn't know if he'd have the nerve to put it back. He paused to consider his options.
"Please don't... Harry, don't stop!"
Harry made a sound that sounded like, "Mmmfff!"
Andrea didn't hear him. But he heard her clearly enough.
"I... I... I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Harry, elated that he'd brought her off, began to suck and that only added to the myriad of exciting sensations running riot through her nervous system.
"G... G... God, this is fantastic!" she shrieked.
Andrea screamed with pleasure once again, as this time he sent his finger to penetrate her hole.
"Ughhhh!" she groaned. "Ughhhh! I... I... feel like..."
"What do you feel?" he asked, wanting to stick his cock in her, anywhere.
"Christ! I'm gonna explode!"
"Do you want me to fuck your ass, baby?" he asked, as his finger made small, circular movements within her rectum.
Andrea shuddered before replying, "OH YEAH!"
"But you're so big, can you... make sure?" Andrea paused to gulp oxygen into her lungs, "You know you don't hurt me too much?"
"Don't worry, baby," he promised, already steering his prick up to her chute, and pushing it in an inch. "I'll try hard not to... But it's gonna hurt a little."
He moved into her. Andrea was sopping wet in her cunt, but her ass was not all that well lubed up.
"Did that hurt?"
"Ummm, no, but I..." she groaned.
Harry thrust again and suddenly plunged past her tight ring, into the depths of her rectum.
"Ouchie, ouchie that hurt! But, yes, lover, I've dreamed about being fucked there."
He groaned as Andrea's rectal muscles clenched his prick, perhaps tighter than it ever had been before.
"God, but you're tight!" He fairly sobbed, and began to pump in and out, ramming deeper with each thrust.
"OH, YES, FUCK MY ASS!" she screamed, and spasmed on his dick.
That was all he could take.
"Shit! Oh, shit! I'm coming!" Harry cried out.
"Come in me, baby!" Andrea called out, as she too reached another climax.
They remained panting in their positions for another minute, and then Harry slowly pulled out of her rear with a popping sound.
Andrea laughed lewdly at this and to her surprise, asked, "Can I clean that off for you?"
Harry looked down at his flaccid cock. "It's got flecks of your shit all over it," he said in warning.
"It's my shit, huh?" she said defensively.
"Yeah, it's your shit."
"You have a problem with me doing it?"
"No, no problem," he replied, letting his cock hang limply in front of his fly.
Andrea swooped down and brought his member to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out and licked him. Harry braced himself by spreading his feet apart and she absorbed his entire penis between her lips, sucking and swallowing several times in succession.
"There," she cried, after expelling him from her mouth, "Nice and clean. Wanna go back to my place, take a shower and maybe go at it some more?"
"I'm game," he said.
"Oh, yeah, I see. So maybe we'll fuck once or twice and then fool around, experiment some."
"Yeah, I like that, experiment. I mean, I never did this shit before."
"That's funny, it sounds like you have," he said looking directly into her eyes.
"Well, I've had these fantasies..."
"My fantasies are different," he said.
"Like how?" she asked, her eyes lit up with lurid interest.
"Ah, maybe I'll tell ya later."
"Oh, c'mon, Harry, gimme a hint?"
Changing the subject, Harry asked, "Where the fuck do you live anyway?"
"Oh, it's the next block," she answered, and took hold of his arm.
"The pantyhose," he began. "Are they holding up all right?"
"Yeah, the fucking waistband on these things could support a battleship."
"But they seem to tear so easily," he said.
"Yeah, they do, but what a waistband," she said, and laughed.
"We're here," she said, stopping in front of an apartment with a bright green door, and fishing in her purse for the key.
"I have a rape fantasy," Andrea had told him as they walked toward her apartment.
"If you want," he said, "I can slap you around."
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "I can handle that."
They began walking again. "I can spank you too."
"Um, how about biting?"
"Yes, I can bite you."
"Maybe I'll need a safe word," she said, pensively.
"A safe word?"
"You might go too far, so I can use a safe word, like Yellow. You hear it, you stop."
He nodded in understanding. He recalled his mother all too well. He had been about six when he watched fascinated as his father beat his mother with a belt. Lashed her behind until the red welts began to bleed, and only then did he stop. Harry had thought that his mother had been very bad to deserve such a spanking. What Harry had not understood was his mother's lack of tears. He knew that for certain he would have been crying. A few years later, after his father, a fireman, had died in a warehouse fire, his mother had brought home the first of a series of boy-friends. He had watched from the doorway as the boyfriend spanked his mother, blinked in astonishment on hearing her cry out, "More! Harder! Don't stop, oh please, don't stop."
"We're here," she said, stopping in front of an apartment with a bright green door, and fishing in her purse for the key.
Harry felt a different form of sexual lust surge into his loins. He knew with a certainty that he would enjoy playing Andrea's game with her.
On entering Andrea's apartment, Harry sat down on the sofa and waited patiently for her to make him a drink.
"You want, I'll pretend to rape you," he said, wondering about this woman's psyche, and what made her tick. 'Was she crazy?' he wondered, 'or maybe a little like his mother?'
He took a big gulp from the glass.
"No pretending, Harry. I really want you to rape me," there was only a slight sense of nervousness about her that he could detect, in that her fingers glided worriedly over the pearl necklace around her neck.
"Well, for Christ's sake, we've already fucked one another. Just what do you have in mind? I mean, I'll go along with most anything, but let's set some ground rules here."
She worried her lower lip, then gave him a pensive look. "I guess you're right. I mean, I know what I want, but obviously you don't. So, let's just say that after you finish your drink you go back outside the apartment. The door will be ajar, like I've forgotten to fully close it. You come in and catch me unaware, smack me around, and then rape me. That enough information for you?"