Playing in the Shadows

(With respect to the genius of Mr. Rod Serling and Mr. Charles Beaumont...)

"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be sitting here drinking alone. What are we having?" The line couldn't have been delivered more poorly or less seductively if it had been read off of a note card by a fifth-grade boy vying for the attention of his first crush in the elementary school cafeteria. Amanda Ghent had heard it uttered so many times before that her lips silently mouthed along with his as the moderately inebriated and clearly horny business traveler reached way out of his league in a feeble attempt to get into her pants before the night was over. Amanda's eyes conveyed a mixture of disgust and contempt for him, and a single tear trickling down the side of her cheek subtly exposed her inner pain, even though the wetness developing between her legs was already signaling to her that, in spite of all of her mental efforts to the contrary, he would be inside of her before the next drink had been downed. Amanda pursed her lips tightly in some subconscious attempt to resist replying, but her right hand ultimately betrayed her as she rattled the remaining ice cubes in the empty glass, tacitly signaling her acceptance of the offered round and her willingness to spend the next few minutes socializing with the man whose attention her mind didn't want but her sex clearly did.

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"Amanda Ghent, a woman somewhat past her prime but certainly still sexually desirable, out on the town and looking for something or someone to fill a void in her life. Like every other person searching for Mr. or Ms. Right to provide them with desperately needed release, she's simultaneously excited and scared, right down to the marrow of her bones. But it isn't the fear of who the lucky one will be tonight, the grand unveiling of intimate flesh, the revelation of sexual adequacy or exposure of inadequacy, or even the fear of being caught in the act on top of the hood of some car in the alleyway behind the bar. It's something else that holds Amanda Ghent in its hot, sweaty grip, something worse than any frustration this world has to offer, something found only in -- The Erotic Zone."

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There was nothing special about this bar in this place or at this time. It was nothing more than a shadowy, non-descript watering hole in the town of Anywhere, USA, frequented nightly by the lonely element of society whose sole objective was to find another's warm body to exploit for a few lustful moments in some twisted carnal tryst rather than to spend yet another night alone with their masturbatory fantasies, inducing sexual release solely by their own efforts. Little had been done to add any element of uniqueness to the establishment's décor. The bar plain, the walls bare. Not one nickel had been spent to provide any memorable character to the joint, and yet, there Amanda found herself, propped once again on a familiar bar stool in a dark corner, about to give her most private intimacies to yet another undeserving lothario who just happened to muster enough alcohol-induced confidence to approach her.

Perhaps the only feature of this particular bar that was noteworthy was Holly -- the hotpants and halter-top adorned waitress who, for all intents and purposes, effectively lived there each hour that the bar was open, and who with the bartender, Bill, brought some modicum of security to the women who would almost certainly be the targets of various rigid phalluses before the night was over. On multiple occasions, Holly had interceded on behalf of some poor unsuspecting young woman who had mistaken this location as a place where dignity and decorum still existed. Holly knew how to disarm, knew how to distract, and if necessary was more than willing to take a random out-of-control dick into her mouth and provide the surrogacy needed to protect her customer and earn perhaps two much-valued tips for her efforts. Holly and Amanda were good friends and had been for a very long time.

A few tables away to her left, Amanda's eyes were drawn to an amorous couple who forgot or simply didn't care that they were in a public location, and who clearly had no need for Holly's intervention. As their tongues sloppily intertwined above the high-top table, his hand found its way under her short skirt below, his fingers clearly finding their mark as her hips gyrated to the pleasure that he was offering to her as she unabashedly fucked his fingers. His erection protruded from the front of his opened trousers and her hand deftly stroked him without any concern about legality, propriety, or who might be watching them. And Amanda was watching, as were most of the others in that corner of the bar.

Soon, the finale to their show was reached and he erupted from her efforts, his seed spraying onto her bare leg and dribbling onto the sticky floor below the table. Her pleasure no longer his concern, he abruptly stood from the table, tucked his deflating cock back into his trousers, and left her alone without so much as a backwards glance as she wiped the remains of his climax from her fingers onto the paper napkins supporting their drinks. "A real class act," Amanda thought as she watched the degradation of the woman before her. She had almost forgotten about the suitor to her right. He had also been viewing the live porn on display before them and was hopeful to soon have his turn in the spotlight. "So, what's your name?" she asked.

"Dennis. And you are...?"

"I'm Amanda," she replied unenthusiastically. Amanda extended her hand to his and he reciprocated by kissing the back of it. A decade or three earlier and that might have been appropriate, but the absurdity of his gesture added one more item to the list of reasons not to fuck him. But she knew that she would anyway.

There was nothing of note about Dennis. He was middle-aged, medium height and build, and likely had struck out much more often than he had scored with his previous late-night pursuits. His only saving grace was his willingness to continue to try, even after numerous failed attempts. Dennis began to tell her his story. He was on a business trip, had made a lot of money, hadn't had time to find the right girl, yada yada yada. Amanda had heard it all before, so many times, always delivered with an insincerity that was palpable and clearly designed for one and only one purpose. "And then I saw you across the bar and knew that I just had to come over and meet the most beautiful woman here!" Dennis professed, as Amanda mouthed his words, verbatim, perfectly in sync with his.

Amanda smiled feebly. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Dennis? I need to use the lady's room. I'll be right back." Amanda grabbed Holly by the arm and pulled her friend along aggressively, leaving an obviously horny and hopeful Dennis alone at the table, closing the door behind them.

"This has to stop, Holly! I'm so horny that my whole body is shaking! But with this guy? He better have an amazing dick and know how to use it, or I think I'm gonna explode!"

"You don't have to do anything with him, Amanda. Just walk away. I'll tell him that you got sick or something."

"I can't just walk away, Holly! I can't just leave, and I HAVE to fuck him - tonight. Tonight! This has to come to an end!" Holly saw the pain in her girlfriend's eyes and the obvious anxiety beginning to overwhelm her body.

"I'll lend you my vibrator. Go into a stall and give yourself some relief. Or go out back in the alley with it. No one cares out there."

"You don't understand, Holly. None of this is real. I'm not even sure that you are. It's all just some bizarre sex dream that I'm stuck in that keeps replaying over and over, and I keep getting right to the edge of an orgasm and then it starts all over again before I can get there. I've gotten so close so many times, but I just can't get over the top and this edging is driving me nuts!" Amanda was visibly shaking. "I have to cum, Holly! I just have to! I can't take being edged like this over and over without ever getting there. I'm so horny it hurts! Maybe it will be this time..." Amanda took a deep breath, smiled weakly at her friend, and began her return to Dennis. As she passed the bar, Bill gave her a sympathetic glance, sensing that this patron needed something that couldn't be found in a bottle.

Amanda wasted no time. "I think we should go out back, Dennis. You want me, right?" Dennis swallowed hard at her directness. "Are you the one who's gonna make it good for me?" Amanda leaned in and kissed him passionately, her tongue searching for his as his hand began to grope her breast, while hers found his rapidly swelling erection under the table. "Are you going to make me cum tonight, Dennis? Are you the one who's finally going to satisfy me?"

Amanda's eyes drifted to the man sitting alone at a table next to them. His was a face familiar somehow to her, that of a man approximately her age and who she somehow knew had been a part of her life for a very long time. She had seen him before, many times before, but she couldn't quite place him. He watched them voyeuristically as they made out, nursing his Gin and Tonic. Nothing more. He just simply watched as the erotic spectacle played out as if it were for his enjoyment alone. Somehow this was a part of her dream too, but Amanda couldn't make the necessary connections. Dreams can be like that. As her urgency for orgasm grew, however, the fact that they were the main attraction for the man next to them began to matter to her less and less.

Amanda's arousal was rapidly building, and she silently prayed for the blessing of release. She didn't care if it was there in the bar right then for all to witness, or if it happened out back in the alley, but she begged that this time she would finally be allowed the sweet reward of orgasm. Amanda violently released Dennis' belt, and her hand quickly wrapped around his swollen member, bringing him to his full extension. "Finger me, Dennis! Now!" Amanda begged him to explore her, guiding his fingers to her wetness and his thumb to her clit. "I need you to make me cum, Dennis!" she implored with wild desperation as her hand continued to pump his erection.

"Take me out back. I need you inside of me!" Amanda ordered as she stood, never releasing him from her grip, and led him out the door to the alleyway, pulling him behind her by his penis. A few spectators followed as well to watch the fun, including the man with the Gin and Tonic. Amanda found the old car parked in the alley, dropped her panties to the ground and hiked her skirt up as she laid on the hood, her legs splayed in the air. "Eat my pussy, Dennis!" Dennis obediently did as he was told and his tongue quickly attacked her swollen clitoris. Amanda could feel pleasure building, bringing her ever closer to her unattainable goal. "Now, fuck me! Let me feel that hard cock of yours inside of me! Please... fuck me!!!" Again, Dennis enthusiastically did as ordered, his dick sliding into her unopposed as he pumped in and out, his own orgasm now a certainty.

Amanda's head turned to the right. Standing next to her, his Gin and Tonic having been replaced by his cock, stood the familiar man, stroking himself as he watched his wife being fucked senseless by the intimate stranger. Now she had made the connection. Her voyeur husband was a part of all of this, and she was apparently little more than a player in some twisted fantasy of his.

Amanda was getting close. Dennis was closer, as was her husband. Coming up the alleyway to her left came two police officers, one male and one female, clearly ready to stop the public spectacle before it went any further. "Please!" Amanda begged with starving urgency, staring directly into Dennis' eyes. "I'm so close. I HAVE to cum! Hurry! Make me cum!!"

Her dirty talk and desperation were all that was needed for both men to cross the finish line. As she felt Dennis depositing his load deeply inside of her and felt the warmth of her husband's ejaculate as it struck the side of her cheek, once again, her pleasure journey was interrupted as the police officers pulled Dennis' body away from hers. He and her husband had reached their summits, but she was left dangling at the edge, her desperately needed orgasm just within reach, yet so very far away. She had almost made it. She had edged as close as she could get but once again her climax remained elusive. With the extreme frustration of unrealized sexual release overwhelming her body, Amanda laid her head back on the hood of the car and wept, her world fading to black...

When her eyes opened, Amanda found herself once again in a very familiar setting. "A pretty thing like you shouldn't be sitting here drinking alone. What are we having?" The line couldn't have been delivered more poorly or less seductively if it had been read off of a note card by a fifth-grade boy vying for the attention of his first crush in the elementary school cafeteria. She had heard it uttered so many times before that her lips silently mouthed along with his as the moderately inebriated and clearly horny business traveler reached way out of his league in a feeble attempt to get into her pants before the night was over. The faces surrounding her were the same, but their roles were now different. Now the two police officers were the couple making out at the corner table. The woman who had wiped the cum off of her hands on the napkin was now tending the bar. This time it was Bill the bartender playing the role of the lothario making the corny move on her. Same faces, same story, different roles. And Amanda was still so very horny.

"This has to end!" Amanda silently whispered to herself, a single tear trickling down the side of her cheek, as the dream sequence started all over again.

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"We know that a dream can seem very real, but whoever thinks that reality can be a dream? We exist, of course, but how do we do that? As flesh and blood human beings? Or are we all simply playing a role in someone's complex nightmare or voyeuristic fantasy? And what if we can't break free of that nightmare and instead become trapped in an unending existence that is simply unbearable for us. Perhaps that nightmare can sometimes become a reality, and resides here in -- The Erotic Zone."