Wednesday, May 18, 2011

I could not believe...well...Wanderlust part 62 "...it will get you off, Aurelia" and Wanderlust part 63 "Cupcake...Snowflake..."

Well, Jeeezum Crow! I asked a lot of my readers on Twitter if they wanted me to go balls to the wall today. What does that mean? It means I had three whole installments done and we are rocketing toward the finish. But guess what they said. The large majority (and majority rules unless I vote like...six times) said NO! I could not believe...well...*SIGH*

These people have way more patience than self. So I am compromising. It's been a while since I did two. So you have two installments below. Two for the price of one to celebrate my zombie book that comes out some time today.

So off we go...you weird, weird patient people. (((but hey! they are oddly long! so there's that :D )))

XOXO
Sommer



Wanderlust
part 62
by Sommer Marsden

I was the one who made him turn off the main road so we could go to the Silver Pearl. The sign was a jittery study in hot pink neon that simply promised, Girls! Girls! Girls!

“You sure about this, Snowflake?” He guided the Chevy into the back of the lot and put it in park. When he cut the engine, he turned to me, waiting for the verdict.

“I’m sure. I’ve never ever been to strip club. Curiosity killed the Really,” I said. Then I kissed him. I caught my fingers up in his denim shirt and twisted so that he had to lean into me. I had a sudden urge to change my mind and just take him back to the hotel and fuck him again.

“Okay, then.” His voice was a little rough, a little dark, a little deep. He was thinking the same thing.

“Plus, I got all pretty,” I sighed.

“You’re always pretty, Really.”

I grinned at him. I had pulled on my black leggings and my black flats. I’d chosen my white tunic but unbuttoned it low so that a few peeks of my black lace bra showed through. I’d wheedled my way into borrowing Johnny’s other belt. A beat up black leather number with a silver buckle. He’d punched a spare hole in the leather with a pen knife for me. Some chandelier earrings I’d found hanging out at the bottom of my purse had completed the ensemble.

Not too shabby for a girl who’d been living out of a car for the last week or so.

“Ready?” My voice was high and thin. I was a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

He actually laughed at me. A low rumbling, true laugh that made me blush. “You are all atwitter, aren’t you?”

“I am!”

“Let’s go then. And you—“ He pointed at me.

“What?” I gasped.

“You keep your wallet put away. We don’t need any more mishaps with that. Got it?”

“Got it.”

And away we went. Into the thumping, neon lit womb of the club. A bouncer—so big he made Johnny look petite—checked our ID, took our cover charge and informed us that for gentlemen, there was a three drink minimum.

We sat at the bar and drank watered down, expensive drinks as we waited.

The loudspeaker made me jump and the man’s voice was total 1970’s radio announcer cheese, but I grinned like an ass and waited like a kid at the circus.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for Mercury. She rolls, she glides, she slides. She’s liquid, she’s quicksilver, she’s always slippery.” And then the music kicked in and my skin pebbled to hear Love and Rockets No Big Deal.

I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with you…Your feet are still on the ground, still you put me down, I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with you…

Tall and lanky, curvy like an hourglass, she worked the pole, her black hair swinging in her face like it just wanted to touch her. I understood the sentiment.

I felt Johnny’s mouth on my ear. “Look at you, Snowflake. If you had a cock you’d have wood.”

“I have wood,” I whispered back, licking his lobe. “You just can’t see it.”

You’re no big deal…

She spun, hair flying, the tiny little spider web nighty she wore, clinging and then surrendering to gravity to fly away from her body.

Mercury abandoned the pole and peeled the baby doll off one strap at a time to reveal pale perfect breasts—natural, thanks so much—with rosy nipples at the center. I imagined, quite vividly, that those breasts would fit the palm of my hand perfectly.

Johnny’s hand was on my thigh—just resting there—and I realized how God awful wet I was. How unbelievably turned on. And then I realized her eyes were glued to me and she was shimmying free of that little patch of fabric they called a thong. Under it was an even smaller scrap that barely covered air let alone skin.

Mercury hit the stage, crawling to the beat and somehow undulated her way to me—right up to me. And at the edge of the stage, she said, “Hi. You sure are pretty.” Before I could even draw air she shot those surreal seawater eyes to Johnny and said, “So, big boy. Do you share her or what?”

But her number was over and Mercury had to leave the stage. She gave me one more pointed look and my heart thundered, filling my chest and my throat.

I turned to Johnny. “I want her,” I said.

He looked at me.

“I want her and you can watch and you can be a part of it. To a degree, but not her. You can’t touch her,” I said.

He continued his stare.

Yes, I was paying him back for Fallon. No touching Mercury. Mercury was mine. And that was that. He could take it or leave it. I mean, it hadn’t even been anything I realized I wanted until I wanted it.

But now…I did want it. bad.

“Yes or no,” I blurted because I could feel her coming. I knew she’d be out soon to find us and I wanted to know where I stood. How he felt.

“Whatever you want, Really,” he said.

Unlike other times in my life, that was not a placation or a put-off. It was not, take it and shut up or I have no idea how to handle you so you can have it. This was genuine. I love you, I want you, I understand you…you can have whatever you want.

I grabbed his face and blurted, “Fuck me you need a shave! And then I kissed him. Pushing my tongue into his mouth, stroking the tip of mine over the tip of his and when he grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch under the bar, I felt how fucking hard he was. What my kissing did to him.

And then a scotch and cigarette voice said in my ear. “Isn’t this sweet? So can I get in on this or what? ‘Cause sweetie, you are a pretty little niblet.”

And then her hand was on my thigh too.

Johnny leaned in, always thinking. “Business or personal?” he asked.

I was confused, but she grinned. “Personal. My real names, Maggie. You can call me Maggie or Mercury and my shift ends in an hour.”

Now she was facing me, having sidled up to my thigh she pressed her flat belly to my leg. Her eyes really were quite pale green, like water or sky. I felt shaky and excited and aroused.

I also felt eyes on me—hers and Johnny’s.

“That’s fine then. My girl here’s quite taken with you,” he said and then introduced us.

I thought, wildly, he was a pimp in reverse. Brokering a brief affair for me with a beautiful young woman because I had an urge to be with a woman for the first time.

On my damn terms.

“I’m pretty taken with her, too. You’d be amazed,” she said to me, her lips kissing distance from mine, “how many ugly women we get in here. Christ, how many ugly men. It’s quite often what us dancers call ugfests. But you two…you stand out. And out of everyone, you stand out the most.” She pressed her fingertip to my lower lip and then smiled. “Gotta go back. You will wait here for me?”

I could only nod.

Johnny said, “An hour.”

And then she was gone. I was starting to understand the Mercury name.

He leaned into me and tugged my hair gently. “So, what exactly do I get to do in this little scenario, Snowflake? Fill me in while we wait.”

So I did. And when I was done talking I asked him, “Are you on board with that?”

He made a tugging motion with his hand and a train horn sound that sounded pretty fucking realistic. “All aboard. Tickets please.” Then he grinned at me and grabbed my tunic. He yanked me in—rough and hard, so that my body revved up for him—and kissed me.

“I’m on board if it will get you off, Aurelia. But when she’s gone, you’re mine. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Wanderlust
part 63
by Sommer Marsden

I had never kissed a woman I found attractive before. And I thought of that all the way back to the hotel. Mercury was following us. And yes, Mercury is what I would call her.

I had just enough time to stand on tiptoe and kiss Johnny—a breathless, anxious kiss—before she showed up in the doorway.

“Nevada’s finest,” she said and sauntered in.

Johnny very quietly dropped in a wicker chair in the corner. It was amazing how docile a man his size can be when he feels he’s fulfilling something for you.

“Sweet, right?” I laughed nervously.

“Yes. You. Are, cupcake.”

Cupcake…Snowflake…

“I meant—“

“I know, I know.” She dropped her big black bag, took my wrists in her small hands and guided me toward her, her fingers tangled in the hem of my tunic. Her lips were soft and slippery with gloss and her tongue, when it speared past my lips, tasted like lime and rum.

My pussy went wet, my nipples spiked, and though I couldn’t see him, I sure as shit could feel Johnny’s gaze on us. I heard the wicker chair complain as he readjusted.

“So how about you take your clothes off?” she said.

Johnny in female form, that is what I’d chosen. I had to smile at that. “I can do that.” My hands were shaking, but just a little, as I peeled off the tunic and the leggings. Already, Mercury was dealing with my bra clasp and she pushed the lacy black boy shorts I wore down to my knees.

She kissed me again, her mouth blazing a trail of slippery spittle from my throat to my breasts. I sighed, let my head drop back. My chandelier earrings jingled merrily, brushing my bare shoulders.

When she pushed me back to lie on the bed, I froze up and said. “I want to. I want you on your back.”

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me and smiled. “Ah, okay. Exerting some power, are you?”

“I just…I’ve never…I want to. Is that a problem?”

Mercury hit the bed and peeled off her cut-off shorts. She yanked off her jean jacket and her tank and under it was nothing. No bra. No panties. Just her. Shaved pussy that had only a tiny strip Jackson had always called a landing strip. Her navel was pierced and above her left hipbone was a black feather.

She was perfect. Beautiful and smooth and tone, like she’d been carved from stone.

I looked at Johnny for just an instant. His pants were still done, his buckle too. But his cock was hard. I could see it from here, that rigid hump in the denim. And it added an extra shiver up my spine to know he was turned on. And watching me.

He gave me a small nod and an even smaller smile as if to say, go on, Really. Do what you gotta do.

I crawled toward her. Started kissing her at knee level and worked my way up, dropping small baby kisses along her warm skin. She sighed contentedly and when I got to the tops of her thighs, I remembered Johnny’s trick for getting me outrageously hot. I played my lips over the tops of her thighs, down that silken skin of her inner thighs. I kissed her mound and let my tongue trail along the flesh that outlined her sex. I nibbled one outer lip tasting the rich, musky, sweet flavor of aroused woman.

“Come on, Cupcake,” she said, laughing. It was good natured. She was telling me she wanted it. And I wanted to give it to her.

But not yet.

I pushed my body up over hers, feeling our skin rub together. Hers smooth and warm. Mine a bit cooler from nerves. Her nipples pebbled under me, her belly flat to mine. I ground my hips along her hips, feeling the pressure from her pelvis give me the pressure I needed to grasp.

She yanked my hair hard enough to make me cry out and then she kissed me until I forgot why I was making that noise. I found her with my fingers as she found me with hers. She was hot and tight and wet inside. All the things you would expect and yet still startling in their simple perfection. I nudged my fingers deeper, feeling the foreign terrain of her body under my finger tips. I gasped when she filled me with her slender fingers—still kissing me—but fucking me hard with a fat bundle of three talented digits.

I heard the wicker complain again but no sounds of anything other than a man sitting there—watching.

I bent my neck, sucked her nipple hard enough that I felt her cunt flex up tight and greedy around my fingers. I bit it and her pussy spasmed again. One more kiss and the swirl of her sweet tongue and I was pushing away, going low, finding her with my mouth and sucking her clit so that she hissed, “Shit!” and gripped the bed cover.

I did everything to Mercury that I liked done to me. I put my fingers deep inside of her and then gently curled my fingers instead of thrusting. I sucked her clit before teasing it with my tongue kept broad and flat. And when she was so wet, when my fingers were slippery and slick inside of her, when her hips could not stop moving and her breath was a raspy pant, I nibbled her clit for a moment and then teased her straight into orgasm with my rigid tongue.

I pushed my forehead to her belly and waited. letting her calm.

She went for a handful of my hair. “Come up here, so I can—“

“That’s not what I want,” I said.

Her eyes, pale and liquid regarded me. “No?”

“No.” I smiled.

“What do you want? Toys, strap-on? What’s your pleasure, pretty?”

I turned to face Johnny and asked him a question, “Will you fuck me? While I do her one more time?”

I turned to Mercury. “If that’s okay with you.”

“If that’s what does it for you.” She touched my face. It was a friendly, gentle touch. No malice here. Nothing like Fallon.

“I only have one rule,” I said to her.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t touch him. At all.”

Her eyes flashed and she grinned. “Wow. Pity, but sure. I didn’t come here for him anyhow. Not that he’s not fetching with his largeness and his scar.”

I smiled back. “He is. Isn’t he?”

The bed dipped and Johnny was there. Amazing how you can recognize energy simply by feel after a while. There was no mistaking the electric buzz of Johnny Rose in close proximity to me.

I looked at him over my shoulder. “And you, no—“

He shook his head briskly, his face serious. “You don’t even have to finish that sentence, Really.”

He wouldn’t be touching her, then. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

He parted my legs and held my hips in his hands. Hands I cherished. Hands that comforted me. Yes, fuck it, hands I love.

His cock pressed to me and then penetrated me, slipping deep so, so fast because I was so fucking ready.

I bent my head back to Mercury. She was sensual and rich and spicy in my face. Already wet and plump and swollen. I nuzzled her and she groaned with contentment.

Johnny’s fingers found me and he tweaked my clit in little harsh bursts that shattered the pure pleasure of his cock in me with tiny slivers of pain. It was perfect. My cunt clutched up around him almost instantly. I fucked Mercury with the rigid tip of my tongue, used my fingers to hold her pussy lips wide. When I was so unbearably close form Johnny’s thrusting, I latched my mouth over her pussy and started to suck.

“Jesus,” she said.

I could not speak to agree, but yes, Jesus.

Johnny’s hands were almost painfully tight on my flesh and the way he was thrusting—a barely controlled chaos—told me that he was close too. And he could read my body almost as well as I could. Which meant he felt the incredible tightness of my pussy around his shaft. And he knew. Knew that all it would take was one little trigger and I was gone.

So he pushed his finger into my ass as he fucked me. Slow and steady and sure, he thrust his finger all the way in and the pinch and sparkle did me in.

I sucked at Mercury and then nipped her. Pushing my fingers deep into her cunt. And then she was grabbing my hair, yanking, adding to the pain I felt. She was coming. That final sparkle of pain she gave me pushed me over and I came too, my face still working between her lovely thighs, the rest of me open and eager and thrusting back to take my Johnny.

And when he came, when he cried out, I started to cry. Feeling him holding me up by my hips. Feeling his fingers curl in against my flesh. Hearing him say my name.

There was a moment of stillness before it was broken. And then, “Whoa, did I hurt you?” Mercury asked, as we slowly disengaged. She wiped tears from my face.

Tears that once would have embarrassed me but now did not faze me at all.

“Nope,” I said. “I just—hard to explain. But I need to ask—“

She held a hand up. “No worries, doll. It was fun. Really fun. But you two are so into each other it’s like a third person in the room. Besides me, I mean. Good luck.”

She dropped a kiss on my lips, licking them swiftly as if gathering up her own flavor, nodded to Johnny and was gone.

He moved in and wiped away more tears. “You sure you’re okay?”

He looked bemused but concerned.

“I am more than fine. I’m happy. But you—“

He frowned. For one little instant he almost looked afraid.

“What?”

“You totally need a shave. Get in the bathroom.”

“You’re not tired?

“I am but nowhere near able to sleep.”

He gathered me against him, both of us naked. He was so hot, like a man shaped furnace. I ran my fingers over his chest, traced a nipple, touched the scar that bisected his eyebrow.

He brushed his lips over mine, cupping the back of my head and holding me to him while he kissed me deeply. I started to shake from that kiss. That all-consuming kiss.

“Come on. Let’s shower first, because, baby…” He laughed and winked at me.

“What?”

“You smell like pussy.”

My mouth popped open. “Is that bad?”

“No. But right now, the only pussy I’m interested in smelling is yours.”

“Oh, now, eh?” I was teasing.

“Well, that is up to you, ultimately, isn’t it, Aurelia?”

I swallowed hard and followed him. The words I wanted were stuck in my throat.

14 comments:

  1. Oh yay, more 80's music. LOL And Really is so cute, acting out her little girl crush on her own terms.

    The Love and Rockets song, in conjunction with Johnny's, "Tickets, please," line, brought this to mind.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rk8D-JkFpI0

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  2. I guess folks who do not like 80s music need to stand behind the velvet ropes when it comes to yours truly.

    Actually, it wasn't chosen for that. I picked through my mental music files that I could picture Mercury dancing to. That popped into my head.

    Loving L&R was just a perk. :)

    xoxo
    s

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  3. I was pleasantly surprised she wasn't dancing to Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar On Me. That would have been the cliché choice.

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  4. No, no, no! Never that. Or "Cherry Pie"

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  5. I'm regretting that vote right about now. This was the hottest, sweetest part of the story yet, it just...worked. Love and Rockets were one of my top ten, back in the day...nice bonus trip down memory lane! And no - No Def Leppard, no Cherry Pie, and no no no Whitesnake. Heh.

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  6. Lord.

    Why in the hell don't people want more? What the hell is that about??

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  7. I have no idea, Jo. Ask May. She was a nay-voter. *points accusingly like in and old movie*. Seriously, the next bit after this is...[[redacted]]

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  8. Sometimes the slow burn is better than the short, sharp quench. This nay-voter will wait patiently for the next Johnny and Really fix. And furiously hitting the refresh button first thing tomorrow morning.

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  9. Awesome way to supplant the memory of Fallon.

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  10. Wow and Wow. Miss Sommer has painted for us several magic moments. Insert "This Magic Moment." lol All of this was hot and sexy, masterfully done, and I loved every moment. You never disappoint, Sommer.

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  11. Don't break your F5 finger, CJ!!!

    thx, Sherri

    and thx, to you too, Miss Cass. :)

    Now...is it tomorrow yet???????

    XOXO
    S

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  12. I'm late to the party again! Ugh! Apparently, I have a house teens and friends never want to leave. Can any of you relate? And who are all these patient people? I've been patient all my life, I've turned over a new leaf, I'm done with patient! Especially when you have Johnny and Really, they are combustible. They raise your heart rate in a way that you can almost forgo the excersise. Watching Really test her boundaries with Johnny, hot! As I've said before, whatever will we do when this is over Sommer? How will we get our fix? ;)

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  13. Having worked in a strip club for three years, I was also expecting some cliche 80's tune - but I should know better. I mean, every girl wants to dance to Def Lepard (me included - although I never worked the pole).

    I'm not regretting my vote at all. I feel I need a break - and nothing gets me hotter than antici-pation.

    Seriously hawt stuff Ms. Marsden.

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  14. Do they make a fiction withdrawal patch, Janeen? lol

    Anticipation ahead, Angell :)

    xoxo
    s

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