In The DarkbyMonocle©
If you're under 18, this story is not for you. Don't read it. Skip or erase the file. If you're over 18, you can officially decide for yourself.
The following is a work of total fiction and contains scenes of graphic sex.
Content is my own (Monocle), copyright 1999-2003, (as are the typos, and spelling & grammar errors), and any resemblance to persons or events living or dead or stories already written is purely coincidence. The reader is free and welcome to copy and circulate these stories within free legal forums, as long as this disclaimer is included and no alterations to it or the content are made.
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Sandra closed and locked the bathroom door, sighed, and went to the mirror to touch up her makeup, grateful for the brief privacy of the small 'extra' bathroom next to the standard, multi-stalled ladies' room. She was having an OK time, but was getting discouraged, losing the heart and purpose she had come with. Damn Phillip anyway.
Her two-year-long relationship with him had been going through a 'rough spot', as her married friends would call it. She snorted. She wasn't sure which turbulence was worse - the fact that he had cheated on her or the almost dismissive way he apologized for it when he was caught. Sandra had though she loved Phillip, and that he loved her. Now nothing was certain.
She had left the apartment without telling Phillip where she was going; though she made sure he saw how she was dressed. She was in her black dancing dress. Its low, collar-less V neckline showed just a little more than proper for formal occasions. The elastic, satiny fabric hugged the swells of her breasts and hips, the seamless body flaring into a slightly frilly skirt, also too short for the most polite of company. She had no bra on that night - something else she made sure Phillip had seen. Delicate looking black three inch heels barley covered her feet and matched her tiny purse - just big enough for a compact, a lipstick, a key, a few bills, and a rolled up diaphragm. She slammed the apartment door behind her, shoes clicking, long fiery red hair streaming behind her as she strode purposefully down the hall. She rode the taxi alone, across town.
Sandra had come to this club to even the score - find someone, show Phillip how it felt to be betrayed. It was stupid, she knew, but she didn't care at the moment. She knew Phillip had at least some jealousy in him, and wanted to hurt him, as she was hurt. And she'd had no trouble finding guys who wanted to dance with her, buy her drinks, and, she was sure, take her home. Most of them she'd never look at twice. Others were so full of themselves there could never be room for anyone else. There were the oppressive, the desperate, the sleazes, the operators, the actors, the too-innocent, the not-innocent-enough. Sandra managed to find an excuse to reject all of them as the evening wore on.
"One more round, and then I'll go home," she thought, looking at her reflection, but deep down she already knew she wouldn't find what she thought she was looking for here. She'd already begun thinking about if and how things could or should be patched up with Phillip, if that's what they both wanted.
In flash of motion that took less than a second, the door to the bathroom suddenly opened and closed, letting in a loud blast of music. At the same time the lights were turned off and an instant later, just as Sandra startled from the noise, one hand grabbed her right arm as another clamped over her mouth.
Her eyes opened wide in the sudden darkness and she let out a smothered squeal of surprise and fright. Her own hands dropped the lipstick she had been taking out and reached for the arm in front of her as she fought on the edge of panic to free herself to scream. The lipstick clattered unnaturally loud in the unseen sink.
The hand was strong and didn't move easily. From just behind her right ear she heard a soft, deeply masculine voice.
"No, this is not what you think. I've only covered your mouth so that you would not instantly scream and run the moment I came in. I am going to remove my hand in just a moment, and you will be free to scream then, or simply tell me to go away. I will. You'll never hear from me again. I promise it. I know. You have no reason to believe my promise, but there it is. All I ask is that you hear me out for just a minute. You see, I know you. I know why you are here. I can give you what you want."
After a brief pause to let the words register, the hand disappeared from her mouth. Sandra breathed in deep and almost screamed. But instead, to her surprise, she let out the breath, trembling slightly. After a moment, the hand encircled her left biceps, jut has the other had her right. She stiffened at the touch, but again amazed herself by saying nothing. She was being either very brave, or very stupid. Probably the latter, she told herself. The hands held her gently but firmly. She might be able to break their grip if she really fought, but she might not.
"How did you-? Y...you know me?" she asked, able to keep the quiver she felt out of her voice.
"After a fashion," the voice replied, this time in her left ear - the change causing her to jump again. "I've seen you around here before - women like you. I know what brought you here and what you are looking for. You carry yourself too confidently to be a virgin tired of her status and looking for a white knight to deflower her. You're too discriminating to be a vixen on the make, and too sad to be here because you want to have a simple fling. You've been betrayed by a lover, and are looking to return the favor." He said these things as statements, not questions.
Sandra started again. He knew!
"But you've not been able to convince yourself to go through with it with anyone you've seen."
"No..." (Did she say that out loud, or just think it?)
"You were going to go home soon, and try to make up with - who now?
"Philli-" She cut herself off. Why would she tell this invisible person anything? She could barely make out a backlit silhouette now, behind her in the mirror, illuminated only by the flickering light sneaking in from under the door. He was tall and wide of chest. The outline of his head suggested short straight hair. He was close behind her and she could almost feel the warmth of his body.
"Phillip, then." There was something slightly accented to his speech, but Sandra had no clue where to place it. "You were going to go back to Phillip and see if you could accept again someone who had betrayed your trust... even your love?"
Sandra nodded, forgetting that he likely could not see that.
"Tell me, was Phillip a good lover?"
"Wh.. what do you mean?"
"I mean, did he treat you like a beautiful woman should be treated." Sandra gasped as the end of the sentence was accompanied by an electric sensation that ran from her left ear down her spine. An unseen tongue had just liked her on and just behind the earlobe.
"Could he awaken your passion with a touch?" Now, the right hand released her arm and fingers drew lightly along her collar bone and downward, delicately caressing the outside of her breast, trailing down her side to wrap around her hip, fingers gently pressing into the side of her lower belly. Sandra's right hand quickly reached and covered the stranger's, half-holding, half gripping it as if to remove it from her.
In the darkness Sandra acutely felt every inch of the motion. Everything that had been touched tingled, the sensation spreading out to warm her body. She inhaled and exhaled deeply again, whispering "No..." as she did. She trembled slightly as she felt a pair of warm lips touch her neck on her right side, just above her shoulder line. They pressed a long kiss there, then two more progressing upward to her right ear. She shivered. How could this invisible intruder have such a strong and immediate effect on her? Was she crazy to just stand here? Was this what she had been looking for all evening?
"Does he please the needs and desires of your flesh before his own? Instead of his own? Has he ever explored the depths and heights of ecstasy he could give to you?" Now the left hand released her other arm. Its fingers first touched her through her skirt on her outer left thigh, just above the hem. They trailed upward, dragging the fabric with them up her thigh until it fell free. The fingers slid lightly across to her belly just above her pubis, then upward over her stomach, between her ribs, until the heel of the hand pressed against her left breast and the fingers slowly rose to curl up and under, cradling it gently.
Sandra had been mouthing "No" quietly in answer to the questions drifting at her from the darkness, her skin goose-pimpling in reaction to the touches it received. But when the hand cupped her breast she gasped again, grabbing at it with her hand.
"Hey! Stop!" She pulled at the hand, which held strong, the motion shaking and giggling her firm breast in the cupping fingers.
"I've told you how you can get me to stop. Tell me to go away and I will. I promise. You don't have to believe me, but there it is."
Silence. Sandra still pulled at the left hand, but she said nothing, her mind full of conflicting thoughts. The invisible right hand then slowly slid flat from her hip to her belly, and began slow circles around and around over the smooth, cool fabric of the dress.
At her left ear, between little nibbling kisses, he spoke. "Phillip has squandered and abused his treasures. You are a beautiful, sexy woman. You have a perfectly curved body, a sensuous walk. Your arms and legs are obviously strong, but toned and delicate looking - a wondrously elegant and feminine. Your breasts," the left hand now rubbed the underside of her breast gently back and forth, "are firm, resilient, neither too big to hold nor too small to escape notice. You have a smooth, perfect belly that makes men long to take you and fill you with themselves."
Sandra's breathing quickened. She felt herself slowly melting into the touch of this unseen man. Her back was now pressed against his hard chest, her buttocks just brushing against his upper thigh. She felt her heart pound, thought she could hear it louder than the muted sounds of dance music filtering through the door. The lips now pressed up and down the very back of her neck, tongue trailing wetly over the first vertebrae of her spine before meeting the neckline of her dress. The tongue then moved in slow circles around her neck, mimicking the hand circling her belly. The second hand now also started circling around her left breast, never quite touching the nipple, but stroking the, sides, top, and bottom through the sheer dress. It occasionally broke to travel the length of her side down to her hip and back before resuming its tantalizing circuit. Sandra realized that her hands still held the thick wrists as the moved around her body. Not knowing what else to do with them, she kept them there.
"Women like you need to be made love to, to have your bodies, and the rest of you, treated properly. You are beings of passion. You need to be allowed the wanton expression of your inner-most self." The words breathed in her ears. The hands switched, left taking her belly over without break, right moving to cradle then circle her right breast now. Sandra let out a small sigh or moan. It was so quiet she couldn't tell. Her knees began to feel weak.
"Tell me you name, my beauty."
Before she could even think about it, she did.
The hand circling her belly made her skin feel hot. She slowly felt the motions move lower. Now below her belly button, now just above her pubis, now gliding over the top of her covered thatch. Her grip on the wrist tightened, as if to slow or stop it.
"Wait... no...." she said, but the hand did not stop. Lower still until the fingers began dipping between her legs, causing the fabric of her skirt to tickle her thighs as the fingers and palm began to pass over her mound.
"Of course not," The voice said in reassuring tone, "You still don't want to betray the trust of your lover - Phillip. What would he think knowing that another man was stirring these feelings in you? What would he think if he knew another could awaken parts of you he never dreamed existed."
"Please... stop..." It was what she had been thinking earlier - only not quite so - intense - as this! Sandra didn't think her 'revenge' could (should?) be so...
"Why should you not know what it is to be truly fulfilled. You owe Phillip, the betrayer, what exactly? And if not him... Tell me this is not what you want. Tell me to go away and I will."
The left hand swept down now, below Sandra's hem, and then back up. The thumb hooked under the short skirt and drew it up with the hand, which slid between her slightly parted legs to gently cup her pussy. Sandra almost fell back, but he was there, sturdy and unmoving, behind her. All she did was lean heavily back into his chest and waist. Her buttocks pressed up against a clothing-covered hardness, and she shuddered at the combined sensations.
Sandra said "go away" in her mind, but her mouth only whispered "Ggodd..." She shivered as the hand cupping her pussy began circling slowly. She realized with shock that her panties were damp. The sliding of her labia against each other and the satiny fabric of her panties as the hand moved indicated just how wet she was. She gave a little moan, increasing volume as the right hand finally grazed her right nipple and began to tease the most sensitive part of her breast. The nipple quickly hardened to the seemingly magic touch. The mouth moved forward to her collarbone and under her chin. Sandra felt her head tilt back to rest on a firm shoulder as the lips and tongue devoured and tasted her.
"I know, Sandra."
For an instant, she panicked. How did he know her name? Yes, she had told him. God, she was shaking all over. And hot. And more turned on than ever before in her life.
"I know how to give everything you need."
The hands switched again. Now the left nipple received its due attention. The right hand slid all the way down, then up under the skirt, over her covered pussy and bush to the top of her panties, slipping under the elastic until the warm fingers at last touched the moist flesh of her womanhood. Sandra's brief protest gave way to a sigh as one strong finger slid down over each of her labia, while a third between them rubbed over her clitoral hood and dipped in between her nether lips.
Sandra was awash in pleasure. She had not really known just how aroused she was until that first intimate touch. Now she realized she was suddenly almost ready to cum.
"Oh God. Please... sloww- not-oooohhhh."
The fingers moved - combination of pressing and lifting, and sliding up and down her slit. The middle digit dragged wetly against her emerging, hardening clit with each tiny movement. Her hips rocked automatically with the motion, rotating her pelvis forward, trying to increase the sensation. Her knees bowed outward slowly, without her realizing.
"It is alright, Sandra love," He murmured into her throat, "You can let yourself go. You are safe. No one will disturb you, no one will hear. No one will know but us. You are capable of more than you can imagine."
Sandra hissed as the middle finger dipped deep into her simmering, pussy, and then back out and up across her slit to begin short rapid circles over her sensitive button. Just there. That was enough.
"Ah! Aaaaah! Oh! MmmmMMooohh!" She shook in climax, the familiar spasms making her body quake. She felt her inner muscles clasp and release, heard her breath catch. It was not the most intense orgasm - it was almost gentle, rolling - but it did feel like the shortest time it had ever taken her to cum. As she shook, the left hand gently pinched her nipple, the right hand slid back so that the middle finger was inside her and the others splaying her labia, and the mouth was gently sucking and licking at her throat.
As she slowly came down, glowing from the climax, the voice spoke again.
"That was beautiful Sandra. I felt everything. Your body is like the finest instrument any musician could ever hope to play. You are truly something special. I will show you more."
Still in the afterglow, Sandra did not fully comprehend the words. What more was there? With Phillip, if she came first, her 'turn' was over, and it was his time.
She was mulling this when she felt him quickly sink down behind her, the fabric of his clothes sliding along the back of her dress. In a swift motion, he gripped her panties and pulled them down as his knees reached the floor, drawing the damp silk down her legs to her ankles before she could protest.
"What?! Stop! No!" She made to push away from the sink and escape, but the strong, steady hands slid up her legs to hold her was it under her dress before she could.
"Sandra, I have so much to show you, if you will let me." His voice was now low, behind her, but gentle, patient. "Lean forward against the sink. Step your right foot up and right. Good. Now the left. Beautiful."
Her hair falling forward, almost over her face made Sandra realize with surprise that she had complied with all of these commands. She had stepped out of her panties, and her legs were now a little more than shoulder width apart. She could feel hot breath on the backs of her slightly spread thighs, the motion cooling her wet and open (and exposed!) pussy. She heard him breathe in through his nose, deeply inhaling the scent of her arousal. The sound sent a tremor up her spine.
"Now, Sandra, I will not be able to speak for a little while. But during that time consider this. Consider whether your lover can do this for you."
"Do what?" escaped her lips before she could stop what she felt was a stupid question, but stupid or not, it was immediately answered as a face pressed up into the space between her legs.
A strong nose pushed between the cheeks of her ass, lips pressed against the sensitive spot where her legs met, and then a tongue snaked slowly up, up, up, and into her slit. It was long - longer than what she knew as 'normal' - and writhed like the living thing it was. Sandra's back stiffened and arched, and she reflexively raised her ass and pressed back to give the tongue greater access. It obliged, sliding up and down, over and inside her slit. She stretched further, and it could now reach all the way to her quivering clit. The contact caused her to jump and cry out.
She started moaning then, quietly but steadily. The strong hands now slid up and down her buttocks and legs. Down to her calves and up her inner thighs as she trembled. Her hips began to rotate and rock back and forth as the tongue and lips did things familiar yet strange and new - scary and incredibly exciting.
"Ooooh... ooooo... ooooo..." She began cooing. She rode the rising waves of pleasure, for what seemed like hours, or was it just an instant? The tongue danced across her most private parts, circling, dipping into her. She felt her own juices flowing freely, dripping in thin rivulets down her thighs and legs, do doubt completely covering the unseen strangers face. Her wide open eyes still saw little. Dimly she could make out a shadowy ghost that was her face. She almost did not recognize herself - the barely visible, open-mouthed expression of lust on it was almost frightening to her. Almost.
Ooooahh... AAaaaahh...AAAaahhh.... AiiieeeEEE!" Slowly - there was no concept of time now- the coos gave way to more incoherent sounds as the fingers and mouth drove her inexorably to a second, greater climax. She felt this one start at her toes and follow the pattern of his moving hands up to her pussy where it exploded into something else altogether. The tongue scraped her clit and dove deep into her.