Not The Preferred Technique

"Holy shit," I breathed. My fingers twitched. I needed to reach up and touch him: his sides, his chest, his abs, his dick, anywhere.

"As unlikely as taking a prostate massage from a sexy fucking paramedic," he went on, his voice a hot breath across my ear, and I flinched when he grazed his lips across my neck. "You enjoyed that," he accused, his legs like pillars between my knees.

"Hell yes," I whined, though whether I was reacting to his statement or what he was doing to me was something I didn't understand. I squirmed on the shitty couch, hunching down toward his legs, responding to his body swaying above mine. I was on fire to touch him.

"Go ahead," he purred, reading my mind, and at once both my hands shot straight up to his chest, feeling his warm hairless skin and the beat of his heart, the surge of his lungs: I closed my eyes and reveled. "The power of a naked body," he chuckled against my neck. "The nude spell..."

"You're incredible," I whispered, my hands sliding across his ribs, around his sides, toward his waist. "I... I want you..."

"All I asked for was your phone number," he smiled, raising up from my neck, and suddenly his forehead rested on mine. "You can take my dick out if you want to," he told me, still with that mocking note, his form still undulating, always in motion.

Hypnotic.

With the last of my sanity I rolled my head sideways, squinting at the door. "Is it locked?" I husked, my voice clouded with lust.

"Do you care, Nadia?"

"Fuck!" I squeaked, totally gone, and then my hands fumbled crazily at his belt buckle. My fingers trembled among the brass and leather as Steve just kept on undulating, his groin making long, slow, swinging thrusts toward where my hips hunched upward like a wind-up machine. His lips continued softly across my neck, my jaw, my shoulder, wherever he felt like putting them: not kissing, really, just brushing my flesh. Reminding me he was there. Letting me know what was on offer.

I fucking loved it.

The belt came apart at last, my hands jittering down until they found a long, slick zipper. I tugged at once, the ridge of his buried dick brushing along the back of my hand, another kind of reminder. Something else on offer. "Goddamn," I grated, pushing the zipper that last inch down before my desperate fingers plunged straight into his fly, pursuing that hard meat I knew was in there.

Yep. No underwear. Which just turned me on more.

He was long and strong and thick and alive, and my hand closed tight around the ridges of the solid cock I found inside. He chuckled, low and cunning, when he felt me touch him. "Take it out, baby," he whispered at me, and then his body was arching down against mine and his lips whispered against my own and I suddenly couldn't get my tongue into his mouth fast enough.

He knew how to kiss, obviously, but he had that extra little schwerve to him that suggested this was more than just experience: he actually wanted to devour me, which still blew my mind. I got his waistband unhooked while he was running his tongue behind my teeth, our spit frosting our chins, and then I gasped into his mouth as I felt his cock spring out, hot and vital against my belly. He was still thrusting slowly, seductively, but this time there was no kind of act or pantomime about it: this time, his every thrust ran his naked penis between my greedy fingers, until with a little detonation of saliva he pulled his lips off mine and stood before me, stepping back a bit.

I sat back, my chest heaving deep breaths into my wild lungs, to see him loom over me, kicking his pants off in a matter-of-fact way, as if he was merely getting ready to hop in the shower. My eyes sank at once to a grossly foreshortened dick, pointing straight at my face. I'd seen it already, jerky and spent after it finally emerged from Ava's hole, but this? This was different.

This time, he was hard for me.

It trembled proudly, launching out of that intriguingly trimmed trail of pubes, questing above a pair of big, tight balls like a snout sniffing for pussy. I leaned up, my mouth dropping open in delight. He was one of those guys who was pretty much straight, not too long, nice and girthy. His head swung, sleek and smooth, a torpedo aiming for me. I licked my lips and held out my arms. "Come here."

"Am I still dancing?" He came for me, strutting, knowing his power. And I knew it too, his naked flesh screaming at my hormones, supercharging my pussy. I was already spasming; it was all I could do not to reach down and bury my fingers inside me.

"Come here!" It was a demand this time, throaty and hungry as I leaned forward on the couch with Izzy's wrecked skirt bunched over my mound. He was looking down there, nodding knowingly at the sight of my creamed thong, his hands resting lightly on his muscled hips.

"Guess you liked the show," he mused, and then, impossibly, he was right up in front of me, his feet outside mine as I curled forward. I could feel my tits brush my thighs, my neck straining to get my face lined up with that glorious cock. He nodded down at me, his eyes glittering. "See? You're under the spell."

"You're perfect," I gushed, mouth and pussy, savoring his evenly bouncing head. I could smell him, clean and sharp and male, my hands moving to his bare thighs as though magnetized.

"There's power in being naked." He stood tall, waiting with a smile for me to decide to suck him, wanting me to enjoy the anticipation. "I told you."

"You did." I'd felt his ass before, and then some, but this was very different as my hands cupped his cheeks. Flushed, I tore my eyes off his dick and stared up at him. "Okay. You can probably have my phone number." He was still laughing as I leaned in the rest of the way, my puckered lips meeting the warm sponge of his head, resting there in bliss for a few seconds before I opened my mouth slowly, my eyes rising high to meet his. He watched me, letting me play, and I admired his restraint: so many guys want to just ram it in, regardless of what hole you're talking about.

I'm a girl who enjoys the build-up, the tease.

He tasted like he should, all flesh and desire, with the salty tang of sweat and precum thrilling my brain as soon as my tongue flickered across his slit. He didn't overdramatize anything, didn't toss his head back or sigh or anything like that, and I appreciated that. He was a pro. He'd probably felt a thousand mouths around his head. He didn't need to act. No, he just watched me, a fixed expression on his face, equal parts expectation and joy: he was having fun, and suddenly so was I as I moved my wet lips over the soft ridge of this carapace and leaned forward, filling my mouth.

I wasn't going to be able to take him deep, I knew. Don is small, and it had been awhile since he'd wanted oral, so I was rusty. Plus, I knew, I'd feel nervous in here, with the sketchily secured door and the idea that a random groomsman could come barging in at any moment. It was not a time to do my best work, but a time to show him his power, so I savored him.

Gentle sucks. My tongue flat, licking along the bottom of his cock. Tasting and smelling him. Impatiently I brought one of my hands around and up his thigh, cupping his smooth heavy scrotum, feeling the heft there. I didn't know when he'd last cum, but I assumed he'd done it since I'd watched him pump it into Ava; still, he felt dense, full, primed.

I wanted him badly.

I sucked once more, powerfully, before sliding my mouth back off him. "This is fucking surreal," I admitted, my other hand coming around to trace his veins. The one on the top was very prominent, a thick pulsing tube I wanted to run my tongue over. So I did, as he smiled down at me. "I can't fucking believe this."

"At some point," he grinned, "you're going to have to start."

"What if someone comes in?" I ran my hand up and down his spit-slicked penis, awed at the feeling. "I don't want to get kicked out."

"Well then," he winked, "let's hurry," and then he was running his fingers through my thick hair before, surprisingly, he pushed me gently back off his dick. "My turn to make you cum," he husked, and then to my astonishment he knelt on the pile carpet before the couch and lifted my nerveless legs up to his shoulders.

"Oh my god!" I gasped, my face a mask of shock and joy. I never got eaten out. Don didn't like it. "Fuck yeah."

"Satisfaction is guaranteed at Dirty bASStards," he gloated, keeping strong eye contact even as he ran his hands up my thighs. I giggled, my boobs heaving with each gaspy breath, but I wasn't giggling anymore once his fingers started to encounter the sticky muck at the top of my inner thighs. When was the last time I trimmed? I wondered, wildly, vainly, as he ran an inquisitive fingernail across my pussy lips through the thong. My head fell backward with a little squeal. "You're soaked," he observed, completely unnecessarily. "You smell like a whore."

"Oh my god!" I wavered again, staring at the acoustic-tile ceiling as he worked his experienced fingers up under Izzy's dress, his palms flat and tight against the skin of my thighs. I felt his fingers digging at the waistband of my thong, and then I had my head back up, nodding bobble-headed at him, my heels hooked tight over his back.

So that I could arch my ass off the couch and let him strip my sodden underwear off.

I didn't even realize I'd closed my eyes until I opened them to see him smiling up at me, eyebrow arched. "You made me cum," he pointed out, "so..." I shuddered at once as I felt the nimble touch of his fingers, rimming the edges of my pussy lips, plucking at my flesh. I was burning.

"You're going to... ohh..." It trailed off into a long sigh, because that's when Steve plunged two straight fingers right up me, sliding into my pussy with the effortlessness that all that copious, embarrassing cream provided. "Oh my god," I said weakly.

"This ain't even all, Nadia." He winked at me again, all exaggerated camp, then leaned close to me. "Better hold onto something," he snickered, his eyes swinging to my swollen labia, and he was right: I was fumbling to grip the seat cushions as I felt his breath on me and in me and then I knew he was about to eat my sloppy cunt like it was his lunch.

I arched up for him, my body responding to something deep, deep inside my brain. Steve planted his face against my pussy as if it belonged there, his nose digging for my clit as his tongue took root in my slit. I stiffened at once, and I'm sure I moaned (at least) or screamed (much more likely), my hands clamping alongside his face, pulling him ever closer. I felt my feet drum helplessly against his back, my pussy overwhelmed by the sucking of his lips and the lashing of his tongue and... fuck, just the awareness that such a gorgeous stud was doing this to me.

I needed him, holding him firmly as I ground my hips up and down along his face. For his part, Steve sent his hand darting up to my trembling tits, groping me with a greed that would have been quite indecent if he wasn't already slurping at my snatch. I felt the bodice of Izzy's dress stretch dangerously as he pawed at me, the shoulder strap digging into my shoulder for a single fraught moment before, with a sudden sense of relief, it snapped apart to spill my needy, fleshy tit bare into his hand.

I humped his face shamelessly, my pelvis swinging like he had done as he danced for me, his mouth and tongue working hard at my hole. I know I was pulling his hair at one point, desperate to capture him and hold him forever against my body, where he could make me feel like the only woman in the world. Dimly my eyes rolled to his hand, groping my tit spasmodically, his fingers pinching tightly at my nipple while he gave me what I craved.

What I hadn't even realized I craved...

When I felt his teeth scrape at my sprouting little clit, I knew I was gone without any hope of coming back down to earth, the orgasm sweeping across me so powerfully that it felt like an actual physical force, lifting me high above my body. I looked down from there and saw my thrashing body grinding against Steve's face, his eyes fierce on mine as he watched me climax. How many women had paid for a dance and cum on that tongue, I wondered vaguely, but then I understood it didn't matter.

He wasn't here for money. He was here for me.

"Oh fuck!" I shouted, my mouth staying open wide afterward as I slumped down into the seat cushion, my legs finally slack over his shoulders. My orgasm came in waves, each one a peak of pleasure that released the clenching energy in my pussy and left me laughing breathlessly on the couch. "Goddamn!" He ate me through it, his hands softer now, smoother as they brought me back down, the waves dissipating with delectable slowness and ease, leaving me hollowed out with the bursting joy of it all.

My hands were still twined in his hair, but numbed fingers now hung off the ends of them, my whole body hot and tingly with the violence of what his mouth had done to me. I opened my eyes to the sight of Steve settling back on his heels, hands resting on my thighs in that possessive way the best men can pull off after they make you climax. He nodded knowingly at me, looking down at my ravaged body in Izzy's ruined dress, and as I curled my head up past my protesting abs, I saw the head of his dick still sticking up at his belly button.

My god. Did the guy want to fuck me right here?

That cruelish look had returned to Steve's eyes now, for he knew what he wanted and he knew what I wanted and he was going to give it to me. He straightened up on his knees, more of that delicious thick cock rising into view, primed and ready to take me. Without even thinking about it I spread my legs wide; at some point the side seam of the dress had split, and now it just kept splitting.

Like I gave a shit now. I'd pay Izzy for it, or buy her lunch or something. Certainly I'd tell her the story of what was shaping up to be an epic fuck: Izzy liked hearing about her friends getting drilled.

He shuffled forward, his smooth mushroom head searching for me, and I reached a languid hand down past my mound to seize the steel rod of that cock over those fine big balls. He let me steer him into myself, his fists resting impudently on his hips, abs rippling as he held himself straight. He smirked when I touched his prick to my slit, moving him up and down, then pulling him just inside.

He left himself there, staring at where I'd allowed him to penetrate, just the tip resting within the soupy valley of my cunt, before he nodded once more. My eyes flapped wide when he leaned forward, pushing into me, half his shaft delving into the swollen wet pussy I was giving him. We both groaned when he backed swiftly out, resetting, then pushed all the way in, those slick trimmed pubes pressed at last against my clit with his balls squishing fitfully on my taint.

He was all the way inside. My head lolled back, an eager breathy croon working its way out my lungs. "Fuck me," I sighed, and I knew I was grinning from ear to ear as my hands worked themselves along my body, ripping at the remnants of my dress.

"Yeah?" He did that thing guys do where they flex themselves inside you, and I swear I felt him all the way in my chest. He batted my fluttering hands away and seized the dress in his own strong, deft fingers, tightening his grip and then tearing that silver rag off my scarlet body like it was tissue paper.

I sat up, his cock prodding me, so that I could wind my arms around behind my back to attack my bra. I needed to get naked for him, letting him feel my own power, knowing the force of our merged flesh would cast its own spell if I could just make it happen. He took my shoulders and pulled me close to him, our chests sliding together now, and at last I felt the clasps come free.

By the time I had the straps of my bra at my elbows, heading quickly for my hands and then the floor, he was already lifting us both with those tree-trunk legs of his, carrying me with his broad hands spread across my bare ass, and then he was turning me almost contemptuously until, still spitted on his magnificent dick, my feet found the floor and I flailed my arms until my hands grabbed the back of the couch.

Looking down now, readying myself for him to claim me, I could see the fresh lewd stain my cream had left on the cheap couch cushion, the shreds of the dress cast off to my left. I felt alive, free to give myself to him, planting my feet with my breasts dangling far beneath me and his hands preparing themselves, hooking my hips to fuck me properly.

I yelped when I heard the smack of his hand on my ass: I knew he'd be enjoying the jiggle. "Ready?"

"Fuck me," I said again, my voice surprisingly clear. No hesitation. I needed this.

He set himself, settling his feet just inside mine: he was going to rut me like a stallion, and I wanted it with a laser clarity. I bent my arms and lowered my head, back arched, and waited. And I thought I was ready: I really, really did, but the force of his first thrust nearly knocked me onto the couch anyway. "Oh my god!" I whined.

"Pull yourself together, Nadia." There was a tinge of amusement in his voice as I braced myself once more, and the next time I was ready. He pushed me hard, his muscles flexing all up and down his legs as I glared down between my hanging tits and watched his balls blur as he railed me, merciless.

We gave ourselves to the wanton, carnal need we felt, our legs smacking together, his cock churning deep inside my hole. He was perfect for me, thick and strong and glorious as he stirred the juices in my still-twitchy pussy, his fingers clawing me back, the slick lewd sounds our bodies made merging with the rich, addictive smell of sweat and sex.

He was well into it when I became aware of a draft wafting over me from the right, from the door, and when I rolled my exhausted head that way I saw two tuxedoes silhouetted in the doorway, stone-still, with an air of hesitancy. "Dude," I heard, low. "Who are they?"

"Stay or go," I heard Steve snarl at them as he plundered me, "just shut the fucking door." I felt the giggle tear from my body, my brain exhilarated by the naughtiness of fucking here, like this, with strangers watching... the power of being naked, indeed, and I took a deep breath as I began to force myself back to meet his thrusts. I wanted to be a good little fuck for him, to be worthy of him, to give him everything.

I wanted him to remember me, because I'd sure as hell be remembering him.

He plunged into me with long, confident strokes, deep-dicking my willing body, using me for his pleasure. At one point I felt his hand smack my ass again, twice, sharp eager raps. "That's it, little bitch," he seethed, and somewhere off to my right a flashbulb fizzled. "Fuck me."

Ah. So the groomsmen had stayed to watch.

I drove back hard, twisting rhythmically as I went, letting myself feel every ridged inch he was grinding into me, knowing this was the best sex I'd ever have. I tried to twist around, to watch him fuck, but in the end all I managed was a gaspy whine: "Cum in me!" My tits swung on my chest, the sensations blending together until, incredibly, I realized I just might be able to orgasm again...

I exploded when he worked his thumb into my asshole, just a nudge of naughtiness to send me over the waterfall, my battered body rising again in an exhausted, sweaty mess of exultation. I was just barely able to keep myself from collapsing onto the couch as he stroked me deep, savage, until with a deep male grunt he rooted himself all the way inside me and let go.

His dick shuddered, jumping, surging deep, but what delighted me was the harsh gust of satisfaction he let out, a long wavering grunt, relief and joy mixed as he fired his load into my body. In that moment, I knew that he was enjoying me, using me, that I had taken this Adonis and given him what he needed. So I screamed, almost sobbing, his thrusts slowing down gradually even as his cock kept spurting.