Would You

'You know exactly what I mean...' she snapped... 'I want to know about the sex...the sex! The NASTI!' she shouted, throwing the pillow....

He ducked...laughing... 'Just wanted to be sure....'

'So...' he began... 'Is 'to know' the same as 'to do'?...

'Why are you being so fucking arcane and bullshit philosophical?...she shot back....

'None of that at all, Sweetness....None of that at all.... I just need to know what your expectations are....are you asking to simply be a 'voyeur'... or a 'participant'....or do you need the options of 'all of the above?'... it's all important to know before I approach whomever I might approach....'

'OK...OK...' she says, arms round his neck, nuzzling day-old growth... 'I gotya....'

'Good....' he says....considering 43 down: 'the exotic, as in erotic....'

10

'Good evening, Chances....' impeccable... slight British lilt to it...totally androgenous....

'Good evening.... Is there any possibility that I might speak to Ms DeVoure?....

'May I say who's calling, Sir....?'

'Certainly....'

'Let me pass you through....'

Another voice...smooth as velvet...the twist here Française...islandish.... 'Mr....? Alek will be with you momentarily....'

'Good evening, Alek DeVoure....' fragrant smoke over phone-lines...all atmosphere and ambience in a simple greeting....stage-setting at its best....

'Good evening Ms DeVoure...this is.... We were in a couple of weeks ago, and you were gracious enough to put our expenses on the house....'

'Ahhhhhh....' The DeVoure wmn sighs into the receiver.... 'You—and if you will forgive me—that delicious morsel in the white, whose corset was in an all-night struggle to contain its 'captifs'—which, by the way, made me wonder all over again why I persist with this flat-chested, boi-grl look...but alas'....she laughed.... 'I sincerely hope that what was intended as an act of generosity and altruism, wasn't misinterpreted.... I hope M'selle was not offended....and worse, your honor was not impugned....'

He was only too amused...her ability to shift...morph...change accents, tones, cadence...move speech 'high' or 'low' in the space of two or three sentences was pure talent and intellect....

'O no... O no....' he began again... 'Not in the least...in fact, the nature of this call is to first thank you for your generosity...and then...to ask a 'favor'—'direction'—if you will....'

She laughs into the receiver again.... 'A 'favor'....Moi?... Let me listen....Dicce...dicce....'

'Well...' he starts... 'My partner...and I—both of us—were more than a bit overwhelmed by our evening at Chances...'

'Hmmmmmm....'

'So much so, that I've come to you for a favor—really direction....'

'Go on....'

'You see....she—we—are quite interested in the 'life'....

''The Life'...Alek sighs.... 'Such an expansive term, M....that could cover any and everything....most of which would be less arduous than this conversation—which, by the way,' she hastened to add—'I am enjoying immensely—and can be found on the net.... Soooooo... I suppose, I'm pressing for specificity—How specifically do you think I might aid you and your partner?...what is the exact nature of the 'favor' you wish?....to what 'destination' do you seek 'direction'?.... 'Shit!...' Alek breathes, laughing into to the phone again.... 'Let's cut to the chase—sometimes affectation and fencing take up soooo much energy....It's sex, right...?'

His turn to sigh... 'It's sex....'

'Well then... I may be able to provide some 'direction' after all....' she laughs....

What you ask for....

11

'So what should I wear?...'

'I haven't a clue....' he replied, trouble-shooting his laptop.... 'depends on what you have in mind....'

'Well...what do you have in mind?....'

'I have in mind delivering you to this soirée and letting you do whatever comes natural....'

She brightened a bit.... 'And what's gonna 'come natural' to you, Booboo, while we're there....?'

He corrected: 'While YOU'RE there... I'm going to be trying to fix this fuckin' machine....'

Her eyes really got wide....

'I'll be dropping you at the door....'

True to form—with or without him—she was dressed to the nines....She still hadn't figured out what role—or roles—she'd be playing...but she certainly wasn't going to let him rain on her parade....

She was more than a little pissed at his not accompanying her....AND at the rather unceremonious way he played it off: 'It's all about you, Sweetcakes....' In one way, she was seething...in another she was scared shitless....

It wasn't like she wasn't world-wise....she had plenty of memories to fall back on—any one of them proving what a bad bitch she could be....what about the first time she walked into an adult movie—without him—dropped her trench—that was all she had on other than thigh-highs and stilettos—and sucked and fucked her way through every hard dick in the audience—big and small...? He wasn't there then....

Or, how about the biker-bar?—what the fuck was she thinking then???... A stupid dare—a really stupid dare—from Sonja.... O, but did she hurt some stupid, red-necked, Harley-hoggin' peckerwoods....struttin' in bold as you please....black leather corset under a black leather cycle jacket, over a pair of black chap-boots....she had decided to leave the black leather thong in the car.... Those white boys almost lost their teeth—the few they had— pissed themselves, or whatever shock causes....it was quite certain, that more than a few lost their nutt the moment she entered—'premature ejaculation'—it's called....then she grabbed the biggest, ugliest, meanest-looking one in the pack by his long, greasy, stinking hair and led him to the bar where she propped herself on the counter and forced him to eat the sweetest pussy he had or ever would taste....she made every pecker in the bar eat her—came like a fountain in every pale face that got a taste, and was resolved that not a dick would touch her....until she spied that scrawny, little motherfucker with a cock the size of her forearm....what better way, she thought, to get back at these 'coon-hunters' than make them watch her 'break' this cock?....so that's what she did....left him cryin'...and the rest of them dry from having jacked—all on her leather—while she rode....more than a few asked for her number—up front!...And he wasn't there then, either....

Yeh, she had enough adventures.... 'This,' she concluded, 'should be a piece of cake'....

The outfit was 'coral'—more orange than red—they called it a 'bandage' dress...in part because of the way it was paneled, and in part because of the way it literally wrapped its wearer....her ass and tits seemed to have extra hands supporting them...and damn! Did it feel good!...no undies here—no room for them....

She had oiled her body a few times...then toweled off to a nice, glowing sheen....no stockings tonight...just the soft gloss of perfumed oil...from her toes to her naked, hairless pussy...up the crack of her ass—she had even allowed a digit to linger in her asshole—over those globes—the ones in the lower region—up to that other magnificent set, where she spent far too long tweaking and pulling her already too fat and too long nipples....

When she pulled on the 'bandage,' everything showed—everything.... She strutted into the living room—yeh, she strutted—on purpose—burnt orange stilettos and complementing jewelry dangling from every place a jewel could dangle—without over doing it....a knot of copper-colored dread twisted over her left ear, its ends falling to her shoulder....

She wheeled in the floor to ceiling mirror—just within his peripheral vision—checking the back plunge of the mini, all the way down to the middle of the valley of her ass-crack.... 'Nice....' She thought, 'very nice, indeed....'

She wanted him to see—to see exactly what he would be missing—she had no idea as to how she might behave tonight...but she would certainly be taking his advice: she would be doing 'whatever comes natural....'

He glanced up from tinkering, flashed that big, toothy grin.... 'You ready?...'

She couldn't help but smile back....

He pulled her wrap round her shoulders and gave her a peck....

In sweats and tattered at that, he escorted her through the main doors of Chances and across the crowded bar and restaurant.... He couldn't have drawn more attention if he had been buck-naked with that anaconda she called her own 'pet' rock-hard and swaying to the beat....people stared—at him—not her....that was until...until they got to the designated door....

He was about to tap when it swung open and a petite, but cut, short, nappi-headed blonde stepped through...stopped...and stared at her for what seemed like an incredibly long time, and then gave them both a drawer-dropping smile....over her shoulder she said, 'Damn, Alek!....Now, I really wish I could stay! Damn! Damn! Damn!...'

Alek was heard in the near background: 'Told ya so....' then laughing....

The blonde pursed her lips nastily—the pucker of a kiss—as likely for the two of them as any one alone...then marched across the club—to turning heads—and out the doors....

Wide-eye to wide-eye, they turned to each other.... 'Was that...?'

'Sydian Black...?'

'Yessss...yessssss....' Alek hissed through another laugh, 'Now come on in, you....'

She threw her arm round his neck one last time—a plea and a goodbye—got a peck in return...though he did cup that ass as Alek ushered her inside....

12

His term had been 'overwhelmed'.... He had no real sense of what the word meant—he never could have—if he were not there with her from the moment she passed through that door....

It was a big room, so it was misleading in terms of the crowd it held....then there were the nooks and crannies...and the alcoves that seemed to crop up without warning—all with bodies in them...all giving off the dizzying scent of sex....

Smell—so important—so, so important....

There is no stink...no stench, here...there is, however, body odor....rich, ripe, deep, dark odors—fragrance that assaults as soon as one crosses the portal....scent that frees inhibitions....the perfumes of sex are abundant.... The experience is like being in an orchard—or, better yet a hot house....it seems exceedingly hot...and they are housed—these rare blooms.... Moistness here....like a rain forest....welcome to the tropics....

The colors...the colors....not just the dress...but the bodies....a room full of sistahs in every imaginable color black wmn might come in from alabaster and ivory to onyx and obsidian....But fair or jet, no denying the blackness of each and everyone....walk and swagger....gesture and stance...lilt of voice and laugh...thrust of pelvis and hip...all done in only the ways that black wmn do them....

And color—a riot of color—the clothes—outer garments, and of course, the under...all meant for show and exposure.... All of a sudden, she wondered if she hadn't erred in at least having one piece that was truly 'unmentionable' as adornment.... Too late to worry about that now....simply the best that could be made of it was to take in the sights...and savor them....

And note the slight...and then not so slight swellings where thighs junctured and should have v-ed....then there were those who decided to start 'early'—no v...simply dangling...not quite hard, but totally exposed....They let her know that he had done something special for her—he had made it possible for her to have this experience, whatever this experience might become....

She also became aware of the fact that she was not the only biological woman in the room—though, there were not many....

She breathed deep....the fragrances and colors of sex made her head spin....Alek led her to a table that seemed almost the center of the room....not quite center—off-centered, raised and to the left of center floor....a space from which to see, and to be seen....

'I truly hope that this meets your expectations...' Alek began....

She looked at her, her lashes fluttering—a slight flash of nerves....

'He's quite a man...' Alek continued... 'So....you should enjoy yourself if for no other reason than he made this possible....'

She looked at Alek again, felt a slight misting in her eyes and nodded....

Alek caught it, cupped her chin, smiled... 'No need to play the virgin, here...' she laughed... 'we don't much care for them anyway...you need to play to win...and I know you're a winner....Have a fuckin' great time....i'll check in on you from time to time....'

''Have a fuckin' great time....'' That stuck in her head as she really began to survey the space....

She sat there for a moment.... A waitress appeared: starched butterfly-collar, pleated formal shirt, bowtie, tuxedo vest framing a set of ample tits, and over that, a short tuxedo jacket....a face that was too cute...,and below the waist, black patent stilettos, Cuban-seamed thigh highs, and a black thong that did nothing to conceal that her 'fruit basket' was 'full' indeed....

'But then,' she noted to herself realizing where she was, 'why would there be any need to 'conceal' anything—any desire to...?'

She crosses her legs, lets the much too short dress ride up over her thighs and tuck itself in the crease where they joined her pelvis, and feels the coolness of the evening air wash along her flanks and exposed rump....faintly, she hears the waitress: 'Madame Alek sends this magnum of Asti along with her compliments...she hopes it is to your liking....'

She smiles...nods her head as the flute is filled...goes back to surveying the room fully realizing that she is being surveyed as well....

13

In some ways, there is too much to take in....too much beauty, too much sensuality....from the corner of her eye she catches something—someone; somebodies—the first figure is almost Amazonian—tall, the color of ivory—that soft, pastel yellow, underlying the white, yet features that were undeniably black, with a cascade of thick red hair swept up into tight French twist....

The corset was red with gold brocade...it fought to contain the grapefruit size tits...the Amazon swept back the long red gauze that trailed from neck to ankle to reveal a perfect, huge, thick cock, pumped and primed....

Their eyes met....but before the Amazon could make a move another beauty was on her knees before all of that dick, gagging as if it were the last dick in the universe....hands cupping Amazonian ass pushing as much cock down that throat as possible....

While the 'front' was occupied, another mahogany-colored wench approached the Amazon from the rear....what wasn't in plain sight could be deduced by motion....

The way in which the Amazon's tits were gripped and nipples seized....the way in which the Amazon gripped the back of the head of the greedy bitch at her knees...the way that the wmn behind her bucked...and she responded....well, it could only be assumed that she was getting it 'coming' and 'going'....

'Well...some other time,' she mused....

Then she felt warmth and roughness graze her flank, followed by the coolness of a congealing moisture trail....she was being licked....

The tongue—one of the longest she had ever seen—belonged to a kind of gothic nymphette—in reverse....a very dark, little thing in white leather—tight white leather—restraining white leather from d-ringed collar, to cuff and ankle restraints...her middle bound and bind off by an incredibly tight, white corset....

Her makeup working the 'reverse goth' thing by the contrasting shades of whiteness and lightness—lots of pale pastels—against her equally dark skin....her full lips, simply a liquid shimmer—wet! Wet! Wet!...through which snaked, the longest, nastiest, most beautiful tongue she had ever seen...the same tongue that had just grazed the outside of her leg from knee-joint to the soft hock of her ass....

She started at first—jumped—but then, after she took in the full extent of this creeper from head to stilettoed toe...saw her on all fours, just there beneath her...just high enough to tongue her greeting...then she saw that the tongue was matched...by a dick so long that it almost trailed on the carpet as she crawled....

After taking all that in, the slight shock became a soft tremor that forced her thighs apart ever so much...and revealed dew-glistened pussy lips....

The creeper's eyes were as sharp as the point of that long, thick tongue....long, lithe body wheels, crawls the steps of the dais on all fours....the serpentine illusion of a sinuous slither as she mounts....long, thick, pink mouth-muscle darting and flicking between overly-slicked, puffed lips....lashes fluttering to the heartbeat...revealing slitted pale lenses...the expectation was that the tongue might be forked as well....

The creeper slides up close enough to the parted thighs that the heat of her breath can be felt on them...the tongue flicks out once...twice...never making contact before she looks up, deep into her eyes—the fix of a 'serpent's gaze'—then she parts her lips and speaks....

The speech is a lazy, soft slur—a honeyed hiss, of sorts—a rich, snakey lisp: 'You'd like thith...?' the thick t-h'ed esses hummed toward the pit of her pussy, loosing more hot liquid inside her that rolled toward the opening of her pussy seeking to protect its lips from the sting of that tongue....

She could only nod 'yes'....

'Goooood....' came the soft hiss...and the tongue shot forward like the long stickiness of a chameleon snaring some buzzing life...and like a chameleon's tongue, it stuck to its mark and showed no intention of withdrawing back to that hot cavity that had released it....

At first contact, she moaned....threw her head back as she gripped the arms of her seat...involuntarily spread her thighs wider than she ever thought possible...then gasped 'O my gaaa-aaawd....' as the lizard-lady lapped that punani....

The initial contact felt as if the tongue had stuck to her clit....then the raspy longness slid from the base of the clit to its tip, setting the pink digit on fire....making it longer...truly making the 'little man stand up in his boat....'

Then, the serpent-tongued one gently seized the 'little man' in her teeth and vigorously 'slapped' 'him' with that long thick tongue....

Her moans were loud enough to call attention to the assault on her clit by people otherwise engaged in attending to their own lusts....heads turned, eyes slid in her direction....some turned to stare....there were even those who moved forward to see whose nastiness might be the source of such commotion....

A tongue of such prodigious proportions is ill-used, however, if it is not used to penetrate....no one knew this better that the serpent-lady—and her audience.... She stroked the clit one or twice more—sent our heroine into further fits—then commenced round two of her initiation into this rather exclusive space....

The wet, budded tongued slithered between the overly slicked lips of her pussy-liquid congealing on them turning into a rich cream....obviously, penetration made her squirm, but the flicking and fluttering of that tongue in her cum channel was almost unbearable—so much so, that her bucking might have been mistaken for attempts to dislodge herself from the mouth that had fastened itself like a sucker over the lips of her pussy while that tongue churned her hot, sticky tunnel....

Somewhere in the distance she could hear her own moans and shallow breathing and beneath that, words: 'Mmmmmmm, the 'Tongue' knows how to turn out those lil gg bitches'.... 'Unh huh....that bitch will be ready for some big she-cock....' 'Yesssssss,' sighed another, 'I remember the last time that tongue got up me....' Then it all seemed to fade to giggles...then stars and darkness, as she vaguely remembered trying to grip the back of her assailant's head and push that tongue deeper up her hole....