tagGroup SexElysium: Fever

Elysium: Fever


Author's Note:

Okay this is a pretty hefty story. It's definitely not your one and done stroker type. I chose not to chapter this tale, as it's intended to be an individual portion of a larger series of related stories. They'll linked by the setting, but spanning multiple categories with a variety of characters and their own stories. There's quite a bit of buildup, but the payoff is substantially worth your while.

So I invite you to find that spare bit of time you may have (and maybe a good bookmark) and delve into this little experiment of mine. I think you'll enjoy it.

Oh... and uh, this has nothing to do with the movie of a similar name.



"Well, Angela, I'm certainly pleased that you decided to come and see me."

Angela turned at the sound of the silky smooth voice behind her. The tall dark haired woman closed the office door and smiled brightly. Angela rose from her seat. The woman extended her hand, still grinning as she came forward.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," the woman said.

Angela swallowed and returned her smile. She took the outstretched hand.

"Hi, Ms. Summers."

The raven haired woman held up her other hand. "Just call me Mary, sweetheart. Nothing formal about this."

Angela nodded and smiled, sweeping a red wave of hair from her face.

"Please, sit down," Mary offered. She motioned not to the chair in front of her desk, but to the large luxurious sofa against the wall.

Angela took a seat and instantly decided the sofa cushions were much more comfortable than the small chair across the room.

"You know, I have to say I wasn't sure if we would be meeting," Mary said. She made her way to a small cabinet on the opposite side of the office as she spoke "When I talked to you on the phone, you left me thinking you were unsure about coming."

"Yeah, I wasn't really," Angela said. "I've just never done anything like this or even talked to someone about it before."

"That's perfectly fine, sweetie," Mary said, her back turned to Angela. "Everyone gets nervous talking to anyone about things like this. The important thing is that you're here now, and I am going to help you through it. Sound good?"

"Um... yeah."

Angela rubbed her sweaty hands down her thighs on the thin fabric of her black tights, studying the other woman closely. She appeared to be busy pouring drinks of some sort for the both of them. As she waited patiently, she admired how beautiful Mary was. The older woman's hair was long, full, and an astonishing shade of deep black. It was curled and cute. She wore a stylish low cut red top and a pair of grey slacks.

Angela envied the heels on the woman's feet, or perhaps she envied the way they accentuated her tall feminine frame. Her tight backside jutted out just far enough to give her back a graceful arch. Though it couldn't be helped, Angela began to feel ashamed of her own body. A woman nearly twice her age was sexier than she was. Mary looked as though she had walked right out of a clothing catalogue.

Mary turned and crossed the room, offering Angela a small glass and a polite smile.

"Uh, thank you," Angela said.

Mary took a seat on the sofa a few feet from her, crossing her legs and facing Angela slightly. She seemed to fall right into comfort gracefully. Angela raised the glass to her lips, but stopped when she smelled a familiar odor. She looked over incredulously.

"Should we really be drinking alcohol?"

Mary waved her hand. "Oh, don't worry honey. We don't have to be so politically correct here. It's just a little something to loosen you up and help you relax. Just think of me as a friend you can talk to. Just two girls chatting."

Angela grinned at her and shrugged one shoulder. "That's cool with me."

She put the glass to her lips and took a generous sip of the warm liquid. She swallowed once... and again when when she realized how smooth and delicious it was. Her insides warmed almost instantly, but there was no horrible burn like she had been so used to. It felt like the rays of sunshine on a frigid Autumn morning.

"Holy shit that's good," Angela said with a chuckle.

Mary grinned at her. "Family secret. Tastes like cherries, doesn't it?"

Angela nodded.

"So before we get started, I wanted to reassure you that nothing that is said here today will ever be repeated to anyone," Mary said. "You'll have complete confidentiality. I know that some things may be a bit odd or difficult for you to discuss, but it all stays between us. Okay?"

"Sounds good," Angela replied. She could feel the cold gnawing of nervousness in her chest. She trusted the woman to an extent, but she was still in disbelief of what she wanted to discuss with someone she'd only just met.

"Now, you admitted to me on the phone that you think you have a problem," Mary began before taking a sip of the amber liquid in her glass.

"Yeah, it's... still a bit weird for me," Angela said.

"That's fine," Mary said, flashing her perfect smile. "But what you said to me wasn't that you had a problem. You specifically called it an addiction."

Angela nodded, shifting and taking a drink. Mary's eyes narrowed slightly. Under the scrutiny of those deep dark eyes, the young woman found it somewhat easier to relax, but simultaneously unnerving. She struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Why an addiction?" Mary asked. "Why do you call it that?"

Angela grinned uneasily. "I... I don't know. It always just feels like a craving to me. My mother always told me that anything that you didn't really need that you weren't comfortable not having close by all the time was an addiction."

"Hmm. Well your mother does have a point. Though I'm not so sure everything we crave is necessarily an addiction. What do you think?"

Angela shrugged. "For me... it feels like I want it so bad I can't go on without it."

Mary smiled, her dark eyes lighting up. "Well, it's a brave thing to admit an addiction in any case."

"Yeah, I guess so. It still doesn't make me feel better."

"Well now, that's why we are here, isn't it?" Mary said. Her perfectly trimmed brows furrowed. "How do you think it started?"

Angela licked her lips. She could feel herself growing warmer and breathing heavier.

"Well, when I was younger," she began, "I was always pretty chubby. Bad genes or whatever. I mean, I never hated myself or my body. I never thought I was a cow or anything... I was just bigger than I wanted to be. I had plenty of friends and all... it's just...."

"Don't be shy, Angela," Mary said soothingly.

Angela sighed. "I just... I wasn't very happy with myself or my body. With my sex life. I'm still not. I've lost a lot of weight since then, and I've always tried to fix myself up and look pretty, you know?"

"You've done a wonderful job." Mary gave her a wink.

A hint of desperation snuck into Angela's voice. "But I'm still not as small as your average girl. Everyone tells me how pretty my face is and how beautiful my hair is... but I'm still just... chunky and—"

"Nonsense," Mary said firmly, holding up one hand and staring at the young woman intently. "You don't have an average body. But who wants to be thought of as average, sweetheart? You are voluptuous and curvy, a vixen for any man. You're not fat or chubby... you're simply thicker. Look at you."

Angela looked down and bit her lip, but she didn't need to examine herself. Still, she listened as Mary went on.

"Your waist is as narrow as any could ask for," Mary told her. "You've got hips and thighs to die for, thick and juicy, but very proportionate to such a tall frame. And the girls upstairs? I don't know any woman who wouldn't want a set like that, except without the back pains."

Angela laughed. Becoming suddenly conscious, she adjusted her bra beneath her shirt. She could feel her large breasts wobble in the cups.

"Any girl would want that hourglass frame you have," Mary went on, sipping from her glass. "And they weren't lying about your hair. I'm pretty jealous myself. It's so full and long and that color is marvelous."

"I color it deep red," Angela muttered. "I can't stand my natural color. It just reminded me of rust or something."

"No matter, you're very beautiful, Angela. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"You sound like some of the guys at the diner."

"Oh?" Mary said cocking an eyebrow. "So there are suitors?"

Angela chuckled. "Uh, no, not really. Most are the same older men that come in for coffee everyday. I mean they're sweet and all. Some of them are perverts. They say the same stuff you're saying, but it's not like that means much. In a town as small as mine, the tall redhead at Mickey's Diner is about as exciting as it gets for those guys. It makes for better tips, though."

Mary wore a sly smile. She took a long sip of her drink, her dark eyes watching Angela closely. "Just old men? You can't mean that you've never had a pair of young eyes watching you the same way."

Angela hesitated. It was as though Mary had peered into her mind and read it like a book. She couldn't have possibly known the man she was thinking of. The hint of uneasiness inside of her was smothered by the warm sensation that coated her body. The alcohol must have been working.

"Well, there is this guy that comes in, usually when my shift ends," Angela admitted. "He's... he's really sweet. I can tell he likes me a lot. I just... don't know if I'd feel comfortable dating him."

"Is it companionship, then?"

She blinked at the raven haired woman. "Huh?"

"You said you aren't happy with your sex life," Mary said. "Have you had very few partners? Or do you have trouble being intimate with people—"

"Oh, no! No, no that's not what I meant. I've dated many times and I've enjoyed my relationships for the most part. I guess I've had a pretty healthy sex life, but it's just... I don't know... I always want more."

Mary grinned. "More sex?"

"No, it's not more sex, it's...." Angela sighed, her hands falling to her lap. "It's like... nothing's ever good enough. I mean don't get me wrong, I've had great sex with guys before. Sometimes I've gone for an hour with a guy, other times it'd be like two minutes. But no matter what... it... it doesn't go away."

Mary tapped a single finger on her glass. "What about romance? Is it a void in your life that you think needs to be filled?"

She shook her head. "That's not what I mean. It's more... raw, like I want to act on something... it feels like...."

Mary was staring at her, listening intently. Her deep dark eyes seemed to flash. Angela felt something in that gaze soothing her, coaxing her to say more. At the same time, those dark pits sent an icy chill through her, one that made her insides shudder with excitement. Angela found herself admiring the woman's body again. She traced the line of Mary's cleavage under the glimmering jewelry that hung from her neck. There were signs of age on Mary's skin, but her breasts hung naturally and to Angela, were perfect. She stopped herself before she could start comparing herself to Mary.

"Go on, Angela."

She blinked and exhaled. Licking her lips and ignoring the warm ebbing sensation in her body, she continued.

"It's... it's like this ache, you know?" Angela said. Her voice became nearly a whisper and her breath grew shallow. Her hand trembled as she patted her chest. "It starts in my chest, like... like a thousand butterflies fluttering all around. It starts to feel like I can't breathe. M-my arms and legs feel like rubber. I get like these flashes, or... or daydreams of sweat... and, and skin and stink and hands squeezing."

A smile was forming on Mary's face.

"It gets so strong I can't stand it." Angela brushed her red hair away from her cheek. "Sometimes I have to go somewhere to be alone, when it gets bad enough. It's like it's a fucking panic attack or something."

"What triggers it? What sets you off?"

Angela knew the answer. She was ashamed to say, and yet something told her that she would anyway. Her body felt warm all over but cold chills gripped her deep inside. Her head was swimming, but not unpleasantly. It was as though she were a leaf drifting on a gentle wind. She distantly wondered if it was due to the drink in her hand, or if it was the freedom of revealing so much of herself to this beautiful woman.

There was a throb of raw excitement that welled up inside if her. Without realizing, she was shifting on the couch and toying with her hair. From below, she felt the familiar warm glow that begged to burn. She crossed her legs, trying to find a way to relax, but yearning to let go.

"Angela?" Mary said. "What causes it?"

She blinked and grinned, chuckling bashfully to conceal her uneasiness. Then she grew silent, her mouth hanging open and her lip trembling.

"Men." Angela breathed the word more than she spoke it. "Men, or... I dunno, flirting, sex... it's hard to explain."

"But it isn't just sex," Mary suggested. "Something much deeper. A lust that overtakes you, overrides your every sense and makes you crave raw passion. Not simple attraction or arousal, but raw uncontrollable desire for flesh."

Angela looked at her in surprise. "Yes."

Mary drained what was left of her drink, fetched the glass in Angela's hand, and set the two on a small table beside the couch. Flipping her black curls over her shoulder, she scooted closer to Angela. She leaned forward and the younger woman suddenly felt tense and excited. She could almost taste Mary's sweet scent filling her nose. It was like honey and rose petals, sweet and smooth yet sharp and refreshing.

Mary put one hand on top of Angela's, and the other on her thick thigh. She became suddenly anxious. Looking at Mary, she envied the beautiful woman yet again. Her dark mesmerizing eyes, her smooth angular face, those lush crimson lips... it hurt Angela to see a woman so gorgeously put together.

"Angela, I want you to do something for me," Mary said. Her melodic voice to poured like oil from her lips. "Do you trust me?"

She didn't know, she realized. Angela was torn between absolute comfort with the woman and fearful uncertainty.


Mary's face seemed to glow. "Have you ever... acted on these powerful feelings when you're alone?"

Angela scoffed and smiled. "Sometimes that's the only way to get it to go away."

"I want you to put me in that moment," Mary said, returning the smile. "I want you to put me inside your mind. It'll allow me to help you with this."

"Um, Okay."

"What is it you think of? Pick one time that it drove you wild, and tell me about that specific fantasy. Tell me who it was, where you were, what you saw, what you did and what you felt. Describe it in detail. Like you would paint a picture."

Angela remained silent for several seconds. It seemed like hours. Her eyes were locked with Mary's. Then, she thought about lying on her bed. She thought of her hand sliding across her belly, then slipping down into her pants and teasing at the smooth mound at her crotch.

She shifted on the sofa again. It wasn't hard to conjure the fantasy she had played in her mind so many times before. Mary's office faded from her vision. Her eyes began to peer past the physical world around her and into the fog of her fantasies. Angela hardly noticed when her own words drifted from her lips.

"Usually I think of being in a room. I'm not sure where. But I can see them."

"Them?" She heard Mary say.

"More than one... none of them are the same. Sometimes they're tall, sometimes short. Some are muscled, or thin, or tan, or black... all of them are beautiful. I can see their bodies. Their chests and their arms and shoulders. I... I see that flesh and it drives me insane. I want to look away, but I want to tear them apart!

"They're all... hard, or aroused anyway. And it's like I can feel their dicks throbbing, like some sort of pulsing tension in the air, or like they're a bunch of hungry wolves stalking a deer or something. God, it gets so... heavy like I can't breathe! I can see their chests heaving and their dicks growing and I know that it's all because of me."

Angela stopped and swallowed. She could see the bodies standing before her. The flutter of wings rose in her chest. She squeezed her thighs together tightly, but it did little to help. The warm glow within grew hotter, melting her until she was moist. She could feel the greedy gazes of the phantoms before her. Their bulging cocks nodded at their hips as though hungry for her flesh.

"I can't see their faces," Angela went on. "But I can see their bodies. They never say anything. When they approach me, they're gentle but passionate. One of them runs his fingers in my hair and pulls my head down. He kisses my lips. Another kisses my neck from behind. Others join them, pulling my clothes away and touching me.

"I can always feel their dicks pressed against me. They're so hard and thick, and they throb and feel so... so alive. It mind fucks me because I know I'm the reason they're so hard. I'm the girl that made that flesh grow so thick.

"None of them mind being so close. As long as they get a piece of me. I get a head rush just touching them. All that flesh that's so tough and thick but smooth and tender... oh, god it feels so good."

The sound of Mary's voice startled her. "What do you do with them, Angela?"

She blinked and turned her gaze to Mary, who wore a sly grin.

"E-everything," Angela said with a smile. Her eyes fell to her lap. "I do anything for them, and they do everything to me."

The room grew silent. Worry and shame crept into Angela's heart. She crossed her arms and turned away.

"I feel like such a whore," Angela mumbled. "Jesus, if anyone knew I was here and what I've told you...."

"You've never revealed this side of yourself to anyone?" Mary asked. "Angela, surely a woman of your beauty could find such a thrill. I'm certain there are countless men that would line up for–"

"You obviously don't know the place I'm from," Angela grumbled. "A girl like me would be ruined if something like this got out. My parents would disown me and label me a fucking harlot. Then their whole church would know it, then the town. Soon I'd be ruined or forced to move across the damn country or...."

Mary stood and using a single finger, she gently lifted Angela's chin. The tall dark woman smiled down upon her as a mother would her child. Angela felt weak and submissive beneath those dark eyes. When Mary shook her head, her black curls bounced.

"You're not a whore, Angela. Never let anyone convince you that your deepest primal desires make you less of a person. Because they don't. Your carnal cravings are nothing to be ashamed of, nor should they be locked away."

Angela bit her lip. She watched Mary step back and seat herself on the edge of her desk.

"I can certainly help you Angela," Mary said with a grin.

Angela looked up and swept a cherry red wave of hair away from her face.

"You... you can?" She said.

"Of course I can. It'll be a little costly, but we can definitely make it work."

"Money won't be a problem," Angela said.

"Then I'll have a room waiting for you. All I need from you is a signature."

Angela hesitated. "Well, we haven't even discussed what it is that I'd want. I thought that–"

"But you just told me what you wanted," Mary said, her sly grin growing wider. "You just told me your fantasy. That's what our meeting was mostly for. To schedule your stay, yes, but also to find out what it is you really want. I can make that happen."

"What... how?"

Mary laughed. There was something both lovely and sinister in that laugh. It made Angela uneasy.

"Honey, surely you didn't think so lowly of me? To assume I was just going to toss you a sleazy one night stand with a lone stranger and take your money?"

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