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The Interview

“Michi?”  My intercom squawks, making me slam my desk in surprise; I must have been daydreaming.  "Michi, your three o’clock is here to see you.“

Fuck.  I don’t remember scheduling any appointments today.  But there it is, staring at me from my Outlook calendar: 3:00-4:00 pm, internship interview, Trevor L.  I squint one eye shut.  Trevor is a very, very familiar name.

So is the handsome black man who peeks in the door.  He gives me a big, sloppy grin.  "Knock knock.”

“Oh my god.”  I manage to hide the phrase in a giant, unladylike bite of warm tuna sandwich.  "Trevor!  Trevor, hi, come on in.“  I know I’m blushing like a tomato and my hands are shaking.  I look exaggeratedly beneath piles of paperwork for a napkin, trying to catch sideways glimpses of him, to size him up.

He is clean-shaven and lean, a little leaner than the last time we met.  The last time!  I can hardly think straight.  Trevor works for our vending machine company, and three months ago, I fucked him after hours against the snack machine.  It was hot and I’ve masturbated to it almost every night.  Now here he is, dressed to the nines, and my panties are uncomfortably wet.

I squirm and point to the chair across from me, with the safety of my monitor and the paperwork between us.  "I’m sorry.  I’m so rude.  Have a seat!  I’m Michi, and – ”

“I remember you,” he says in his soft, honey-like voice.  I melt helplessly into my seat.

“Of c-course,” I manage, with minimal stuttering.  I try to regain my businesswoman composure, tapping his file on the desk brusquely.  But our eyes meet and I’m lost again.  "I’m so sorry.  I didn’t realize you were interested in an internship here.“

"Just trying to get my feet,” he drawls, his gaze never leaving my face.  My blouse is one too many buttons undone, I realize, but he’s looking me nobly in the eyes.  "Get out of the vending business.“ A flash of very white teeth and a big, flat tongue behind.

And I desperately want that tongue all over my body.  "Well,” I say, trying to be casual as I stand and cross the room to close the blinds, “I think we can work something out.”

He half-rises as it dawns on him, but I make it back to straddle him before he can leave the chair.  "I can’t stop thinking about you,“ I breathe in his ear, my chest heaving; I’ve lost all pretense of professionalism.  I reach back and free my hair so that it cascades around his face, walling us in so we can only grope with our lips.  His hands reach up and take my face and my fantasy is alive once more: his hands explore the nooks and crannies of my blouse, my pencil skirt.  He finds the waist of my lacy thong and tugs it away.

I go after his well-ironed pants.  As I try to wrangle the zipper, I toss my head back. "How the hell did you get such a perfect crease?  Fuck I can’t use an iron.”

He laughs, almost a giggle, and kisses behind my ear, making it a thousand times harder to get him free.  Finally, squirming, I unleash his ready cock, sprouting out of his pants like a welcoming totem.  With a relieved sigh, I straddle him again and ease him inside.

This time, I expect his size, but he still fills my tiny cunt to satisfaction.  I inhale like a swimmer emerging from the depths and he lets out his breath in an inverse echo.  My knees dig into the arms of the chair as I raise and lower myself on him, once, twice, faster, dripping down the length I have not yet swelled to accommodate.

Trevor smacks my ass.  Between the surprise and the pleasure, I squeeze and gasp and come on him.  I can barely keep my eyes open and I know my hair is in his face, but then he cries out and lunges up, holding me as close as he can.  We bind at the waist until our climaxes subside.

Panting, I sit up and clear my throat.  "Well.  I think you’ll be perfect for the position.“

His eyes are already alight with post-coitus contentment, but they sparkle with a genuine joy.  "Really?”

I gingerly displace myself and return to my seat.  My skirt gets straightened, my top rebuttoned. Then I lean palms-down across the desk.  "We work well together, you know how this place functions – and besides, from what I’ve seen, you do a very thorough job.“  And I give him one of my most charming smiles.

He’s beaming from ear to ear, zipping up his pants even as he extends a hand to me.  "Thank you so much, Michi,” he says, pumping my hand with as much enthusiasm as he pumped his cock into me.  "I promise I won’t let you down.“

I grin, unable to contain it.  "I’m counting on it.”

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Whimsy

We sat down beside the river together, the Storyteller and I.  I tucked my legs beneath my long skirts, splayed sideways in the juicy grass, my head propped in my palm as I watched him.  The Storyteller took a flask from his patchwork jacket and a tiny stringed instrument from his pocket.

He smiled a silly crooked smile at me, took a sip from the flask before handing it to me, and held the instrument up to his ear.  His grin widened as his fingers tickled a tune.  I giggled at the sound; it was like the banter of fairies, or a field of daisies gossiping through their petals.

“Long ago, when the world was still being made,” the Storyteller said.

My head swam as if I’d drained his flask of its mead, though I hadn’t yet touched it.  As if by another’s prompting, I lifted the flask to my lips and let it hover there, just touching my moist skin.  My eyes were locked on the Storyteller.

“In those days, a beautiful angel maiden stood queen over the subjects of the world, who were not yet so divisive as to form clans and countries.”  The Storyteller coaxed another riff out of his instrument, this one with a hint of malice running beneath.  The flask bumped against my teeth and I gulped at the sweet, heavy liquid that hit my tongue.  "But there was a shadow in the heart of the lord of the warriors.  With each passing day his malice grew and twisted his features, until he was no more human than the serpent.  He was the first demon.“

I could barely keep my eyes open, my chin bobbing towards my chest.  The Storyteller’s face was an indecipherable blur.

"Then came the wars.”

I tumbled forward into his vision, my whole head filled with the frantic music of the tiny instrument.  The black sky roared with columns and balls of fire, dodged by beings of light.  A crescendo of wild drumbeats brought the image to a standstill, and as if from a distance I heard the Storyteller: “There was only one way to reconcile.  A child must be born, produced of the light and the darkness, and given reign over the world.  His struggle would be internal, eternal, but he would unravel the war.

"But the child must be made.”

I was lying on a grassy hill, facing the blue, cloudless sky.  I raised my hands and saw that they were glowing from an internal illumination.  Something rough and sinewy slid between my legs and I raised my head to see a scaly, demonic face gazing at me with a horrific mixture of adoration and loathing.  A long, snake-like tongue slithered out of its mouth and lifted my luminous skirts with surprising strength.

I was bared, exposed, my head still swimming.  I stared up at the sky.  The creature’s tongue dove inside of me, somehow unbearably rough and heartbreakingly satisfying as it flicked in and out.  I felt myself grow wetter; my hands moved to my nipples and I toyed with myself.

At last, the creature brought its legs up and forward and hovered over me as if waiting for a signal.  I lifted my head again and met its eyes.  I thought I would be consumed by the ancient fires there.

From far away came the sounds of four tiny strings, plucking out a melody that was as old as the world.

The demon plunged into me.  I shrieked, the sound rising visibly from me like steam.  I clenched the leathered buttocks in both hands, forcing him to work for every thrust, holding him in until my back arched and my lips parted and my breath escaped in rattles.  Then I drained him of his semen, hotter than flame, coursing through my entire being until I knew: our child was conceived. The human race would be born.

Slowly, the vision faded.  I was staring languorously at the Storyteller, who gazed back at me with intent but knowing eyes.

“And that, my love, is how we all came to be.”

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First Class Ass

The seatbelt light dings softly and I tilt sideways into the aisle, lowering my book just enough to see all the way to the front of the plane.  He’s there, his back to me, tugging the drink cart along as he flashes his pearly whites at the old ladies and nervous children.  I smile to myself, imagining those teeth nibbling my shoulder.

A slow flush creeps up the back of his neck; he knows I’m thinking about him.  I keep my smile and my hands to myself as he passes with the cart, addressing the passengers to my right and in the row across, but making me wait.  Making me wonder.

But I don’t wonder.  He will come.  He will come, and then he will come.  My smile is positively fangy as I stand and stalk off to the little bathroom.  The lock makes a definitive click that echoes down the interior of the plane – a warning, a signal.

I sit on the plastic seat and cross my legs like a lady.  I hold my breath for thirty seconds every minute, appreciating the thin atmosphere as my head swims.

An apprehensive rattle on the door.  "Miss…?“ he asks very softly, my name lodging in his throat.  I flick the latch to "Unoccupied” and the door opens.

“Get in here,” I say through my teeth, my vague Eastern European accent making my words silky.  "Take off your pants.“

He can’t keep his eyes off my face, but he complies, untucking his pale blue button-up and tugging down his crisp pants.  I size him up once more, to be sure I missed nothing.  He sports a thin shock of blonde hair, nearly white, over a pair of weak blue eyes and a stubby nose.  He’s adorable, in a very ordinary way.  My gaze drops to his waist, affirming my assessment: he has a first class body, and no idea.

"Yes,” I purr, curling my finger up under his chin and stroking towards me, making sure my nails just catch on his stubbly skin.  "Come to Teles.“

He shudders and it makes him sigh, at the perfect moment, releasing a bit of his inner essence.  I suck it greedily into my own lungs and now I know exactly how to ensnare him.  I give him a firm shove so he slams against the door.  With one hand, I flip the lock to "Occupied.”  With the other, I gather up his whole impressive package.  I lift his cock so its tiny eye gazes at me and hold my breath again.

I lower myself down over the cock, lips first, and I draw out his soul.  He doesn’t even scream as I take him, singing him an internal song as I lure his entire essence to mingle with mine.  Now his dull eyes are blank, ready to be filled with my instruction.

I pull back from his cock, tossing my hair as if emerging from the water, and meet his gaze.  I show my teeth.  "Eat me, slave,“ I say, wrenching up my dress and pushing his head down between my legs.  His tongue is as eager as a dog’s, praising my lower lips with its exuberant strokes.  I smile down at his thinning hair, picking up tufts in my nails.  "I will give you better hair,” I say.  He licks faster, using his lips to suck now, gently drawing me towards orgasm.

Leaning down across his back, I grab his ass in both hands.  It is firm, well-muscled, an athlete’s ass.  "Oh, but you will give me many nights of pleasure with this,“ I say, enjoying the full-body tremble these words set off in him.  My own flesh is alive, every nerve crawling towards his pleasuring mouth.

Before I gush gratefully under his tongue, I wonder if this is a craving I will regret.

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The Union

Dark bodies stirred around the fire.  The one chosen to be the Hand looked up with his golden eyes, haunting in a human face.  He bared his teeth, his wolf instincts fully intact.  "Brothers!  Sisters!  Gather.“

More shadowy shapes slunk in from the outskirts of the camp.  They lined up, packed in a tight circle, all noses and ears pointed towards the Hand.  The humanform raised his hands and the yips and snarls died away.

"We gather for a Union.”  Murmurs, quickly hushed by the Hand’s dead stare.  "Today we witness the binding of Kaden Raggedclaw and Navisha Bloodeyes.  Call your brethren.“

"Raggedclaw,” came the ragged cry, then stronger: “Raggedclaw!  Bloodeyes!”

“Come forth!” the Hand roared.

Two wolves were thrust into the ring of firelight.  One sported pitch black fur and jagged scars over both eyes; she flickered in and out of humanform to reveal raven black hair and fragile, pale skin.  The other was a pale grey, like a springtime sky, with black-tipped paws and a shock of bright red hair when he trembled into humanform.

Kaden and Navisha stared at one another across the flames.  Navisha’s tongue flicked out and swiped her muzzle.  Kaden dipped his head and began to walk around the ring towards her.  She watched him, unmoving.

“To complete this Union,” the Hand said, “you must be joined, in all forms, to all forms.”  The gathered went silent.  This was the moment.

Navisha waited until Kaden was close, and then she dropped to a bow, her hindquarters in the air.  She swept her tail aside and let out a long, low howl.  Kaden darted forward, rearing up, and settled over her, his paws hugging her against him.  He poised over her entrance.  His cock dripped with excitement.  Navisha whined, and he thrust forward.

They were suddenly a blur of fur and skin and paws and hands and tails and eyes.  The firelight added to their flickering outlines as they transitioned from wolf to humanform and back again, sometimes alternating, sometimes merging into a single entity.  Tongues lashed out, seeking points of pleasure.  Kaden’s hands groped at Navisha’s dribbling pussy, clawing at her clit even when his fingers lengthened into claws.  She was bloody and raw but she pumped against him, ass to crotch, no sign of her humanity.

Now Navisha was a wolf, thrashing as humanform Kaden held her down into the dirt; now Kaden was a wolf, howling his pleasure as he clung to the naked human woman that was Navisha.

With one last, mighty roar, Kaden came hard, knotting Navisha.  The hot semen rushing into her trapped her between forms, left her with ears and a tail and little else.  Her bare breasts swung beneath her as, panting, she fell back against her mate.  Kaden was in full wolf form, and he licked her gently between the shoulderblades.

The Hand lifted his arms.  "To our newest Union!“

"To the Union!” the werewolves howled, while the newlyweds lay tied together, their sweat steaming in the summer air.

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Gangster Love

Isabella raised her head from the dripping cock and wiped her chin on her bare shoulder.  She gave the man a toothy smile and crawled across the floor to her next assignment.

At one end of the room stood a clump of idle girls – not the favorites, Isabella thought smugly.  The favorites were on their knees, crawling between bosses, slurping and moaning and, sometimes, embracing one another at the center of the chamber.  Every breast was bare, and most of the men lounged on cushions with their pants unzipped.

She reached Alanzo and curled up between his knees.  He ruffled her hair.  "Izzy, baby. I feel like we haven’t talked in months.“

Leaning her head back so she was resting it on his stomach, she fluttered her eyelashes at him.  "We haven’t.  You’ve been busy with Vera.”  She narrowed her eyes just enough to show exactly how she felt about her fellow entertainer.

“Awww, Izzy.”  Alanzo cupped her chin and tilted her head so she was a sleek, dark line from chin to sternum.  "You know I’ll always come back to you.“

"Yes,” Isabella purred, rolling over so her face rested in his crotch.  "Because I’m the best.“

Her eyes still trained on him, she went down on his cock, flattening her tongue to take him all the way in.  A sigh shivered out of him and he slumped, melancholy but sated.  Isabella bobbed on his cock, working her hands as well.

Alanzo’s head lolled and he gazed at Isabella through half-closed eyes.  "Hey.  Listen.”  His voice was almost too quiet for her to hear, so she released him with a pop of her lips and swung to her feet, straddling him.  She buried her knees deep in the couch cushions on either side of him and sank down on his waiting cock.  Spasms of pleasure pulled them closer together; she rested her head against the side of his, eyes closed, waiting.

“There’s a big delivery going down on Sunday.  Church time.  Enrico, Teddy, a few of the others – they’re dragging something out of the boats and distributing it while the holies are occupied.”  Alanzo’s lips barely moved against her ear, the soft, moist skin making her cartilage tingle.

“Got it,” she said back, just as discreetly.  She folded her torso and then leaned into him.  He grabbed her ass and pressed her down as far as she would go.  Isabella curled her tongue into the corner of her mouth and bumped her forehead against Alanzo’s.

“Well aren’t you just the strong, healthy stud today.”

“I do what I can,” the gangster said, and gritting his teeth he began to bounce his lap.  Isabella gripped him with startling strength and threw her head back, her large breasts flying up to smack her under the chin, her moan coming out in staccato snaps.  Her fingers dug into Alanzo’s shoulders and her mouth dropped open as she climaxed; Alanzo showed her a set of yellow teeth and then leaned forward to nibble her nipples.  He left bright red marks on her areolas.

Isabella dropped her hand to her clit and flicked it with two fingers while she continued to pump.  She lowered her back into the motion, riding with all of her energy, until Alanzo finally huffed and surged into her, a hot flood.  Isabella caught up her hair and settled on his lap, pulling her feet out from behind her so she was almost squatting over him.

“There you go, Mister Alanzo, sir,” she said with a teasing grin.

He wheezed in her ear, his scruff tickling her cheek. “Come back sooner next time,” he said, smacking her cheek with a kiss and then echoing the sound on her ass.

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Little Darlin’

“Ho, boy!”

John looked up from his campfire at the horse he had heard coming an hour back.  He touched the brim of his hat to the figure silhouetted against the setting sun.  "Evenin’, partner.“

The rider giggled and swung down off the fidgety animal’s back.  John tried to keep his eyes from widening but was only partly successful – the riding skirts were too shocking.  "Ahh, my ‘pologies.  Evenin’, ma’am.”

“Ain’t no ladies from where I’m standin’.”  The girl flipped her hat off, loosening a mane of curly brown hair and revealing freckled cheeks and a tilted smile.  She thrust her hand in John’s face.  "You can call me Little Darlin’.“

"Can I now?”  A suspicious bubble boiled up in John’s gut, and he stared at the hand without taking it.  The looming emptiness of the desert around him seemed to yawn and shift.  "Or is there gold to be paid if’n I do?“

The girl narrowed her eyes for just a second, then collapsed into a cross-legged sitting position next to the fire.  "Nah, not out ‘ere.  Out ‘ere we’re all just lonely and lookin’ for some company.”

“I see.”  John kept his voice level.  "And what sort o’ company you be huntin’ tonight?“

"Yours,” the girl said.  She shrugged, digging her teeth into something she’d fished out of the leather bag on her belt.  "Probably.“

John sized her up for another long moment.  Despite her haphazard appearance, she was at ease and in surprisingly good condition for as long as her stallion’s hooves indicated they’d been traveling.  He guessed she had a small firearm tucked away somewhere, but he didn’t imagine she would use it.  He straightened up.  "Arright.  Shoot.  What’s your game?”

“I like cock,” she said, wrapping her whole tongue around the word with a toothy smile, “and ain’t no spit-polish piece o’ wood gonna satisfy my hungry pussy.”

John’s body responded for him.  He leaned towards her, and this time he was the one to offer his hand.  "I think I can help with that.“

She tugged him with such strength that he fell forward onto her, and they both landed in the sand.  Her hands were clutching at his hair, sliding into his shirt to grope his back, then slipping into his pants and finding where he was waiting for her.  John kissed the place he loved to kiss on women: where the jaw met the neck, the knot of strength and determination.  She moaned and arched up against him.

He sat up to paw at her skirts until he found where they came loose from one another.  Separating them with deft fingers, he found her, too, waiting eagerly.  Already she was thrusting, her torso writhing and her legs scrabbling for traction in the sand.  John ducked beneath the skirts and put his mouth against her, breathing in sweat and horse and desire.  He lapped at her until she wailed like a coyote, head thrown back towards the moon.

He found the gun, in the top of her boot, and gently slipped it free.  He felt her tense, then relax, then laugh, "Well, hungry is as hungry does,” and came against his cheek.  His face dripping, John flipped her skirts up against her chest and unzipped his pants.  He wiped his cheek on his shoulder, smiling down.

“Come along, little darlin’.”

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Commanded Cat

She wished she had real ears to flick, cowering against his leg at the sight of so many new people milling about the convention center.  She looked up at Him enquiringly, and He tugged gently on the leash attached to her collar.

“Come on, girl,” He said, and they started moving towards the entrance at a slow pace to accommodate her knees.  Despite the kneepads, the ground was hard, and she was worried the body-tight leopard fursuit might be damaged.

Someone rushed up to them in a vibrant blue squirrel outfit.  "Oh my god!  Is that a cat?“

"She’s mine,” He said with a contented smile.

She blushed and pretended to wash her face with a paw.  Beneath the warm suit, she could feel moisture gathering against her tiny panties.  Of all of the reasons she donned the suit, this was the most fulfilling.

“Up, girl!”  He tugged on the leash and she obeyed, rearing up and pawing at the end of the leash, which He dangled like a toy.  "See?“ He added when she dropped back down to all fours, "she’s an lovely obedient thing.”

The squirrel nodded admiringly.  "I’d say so.“

"Come along,” He said, and led her towards the bathrooms.  She trotted along at an impressive clip, the weight of the collar a solid reminder of the power He held over her.

Finally they reached the three doors – men’s, women’s, family.  He opened the family door and motioned her in.  The floor was not spotless and she wrinkled her nose, but obeyed, her whole body shuddering with the arousal of following orders.

When they were inside, He lifted her to her feet and embraced her.  "Wash your hands, and then come to the corner.“

"Yes sir,” she said; she was permitted to speak when she was not on all fours, in character.

When she was finished with the aromatic soap, she dried her hands carefully and turned around.  He had already unzipped His pants but was waiting for her to finish the unclothing.  Her spine tingled but she kept it erect.

He, too, was erect, and she spent a moment basking in His glory: the unblemished head, the ridges that gave her such pleasure, the veins like gentle rivers.  She kissed the tiny hole and now she was shuddering with uncontrollable heat.

His hands were all over her, now on her ass, now on her cheeks: “Don’t move,” He said, and stalked around her to the back of the suit.  The zipper slid down, cold against her back, but she held herself rigidly as He had commanded.

He reached beneath her when the suit fell away and His fingers wandered from her asshole to her clit.  They lingered there, taunting her.  "Don’t move,“ He whispered in her ear, an unbearable tickle.  She stiffened, her mind full of the pleasure to come, all beneath an even more overwhelming desire to serve.

"Not even your lips,” He said, and lifted His hand from her crotch and slipped His fingers into her mouth.  He teased his cock between her cheeks, then slowly bent her over and lunged into her entrance.  She had to bite her lip but remained still, except for the necessities of gravity.

“Tell me,” He said, “how much you love me.”

“I love you so fucking much.”  It burst out of her, undammed.  "So fucking much.  I will walk on my hands and knees for you.  I will take you in my mouth and bring you to orgasm.  I will do whatever you say.“

"I will do whatever you say, sir,” He said, applying a slap to her ass.  It made her squeeze Him, rippling along his shaft, and his breathing changed.

“I will do whatever you say, sir,” she gasped.  "Everything, sir.  Every desire that passes through your mind.  Sir.“

"Good girl,” He said, and He draped Himself over her back and gave her what she wanted more than anything in the world, in that moment.

His hand lingered over hers and His fingers wandered over the dark ring on her left hand.  She felt Him smile.

“Good girl,” He said again.

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Willpower

Alice’s knees were beginning to ache, but she held herself steady.  Without turning her head, as she had been explicitly instructed, she could see the newly-made bed and the closed door to the bedroom. She entwined her hands more thoroughly behind her back and held them to the small of her back.  A light breeze came in through the window and her nipples puckered in greeting.

“Alice.”  The voice was tinny but undeniably her lover’s.  She almost melted into the carpet with relief and arousal at the sensuous sound.

“Yes, sir,” she said breathlessly.

The walkie talkie on the bed hissed again.  "You may move your hands to your breasts now.“

"Yes, sir.”  Alice delicately unwound her fingers and brought them around with tai chi slowness to cup both of her small breasts.

“Look at them.  Catalog them.  You have five minutes.  When I speak to you again, I want you to tell me everything about your beautiful breasts.  Nod if you understand your assignment.”

Alice tilted her head so she could look into the shiny black eye of the camera mounted above teh door.  Then she dropped her gaze down and began to examine the delicate white skin.  The time crept by.

The sound of the walkie talkie made her start.  "Tell me, my little poet.“

"My left nipple,” she began in a raspy song of a voice, “is smaller than my right.  It dimples just north of center when I shiver.  They are both gently sloped, like foothills against a craggy mountain.  There is a single long hair that grows at eleven o’clock on my right areola.  You like to lick it when we fuck.”  She tipped her chin back to the camera again, sparks in her eyes.

Her lover chuckled.  "You’re a cheeky little slut.“

"Yes, sir,” Alice said, inclining her head so her chin touched her neck.

“Now,” the voice went on, “slide your hand down your stomach and rest it there for a moment. Think about how sexy you are.  Think about how nice it would be to touch a girl with a flat stomach, and then enjoy the fact that you are doing it.”

Alice’s hand began to tremble, but she tried to recapture her sense of obedience and slid her hand down her skin.  She had oiled before she had entered the room, so it was smooth and luxuriously soft. Down the muscles in her taut stomach.  Lingering over her belly button, petite and puckered.  She closed her eyes and thought of other beauties, the girls her lover shared with her.  She thought of the lithe forms and her hand drifted lower.

“Good girl,” the voice said, and the walkie talkie spat as he left the control room.

Alice moved lower, lower, until her fingers began to circle her clit.  She teased herself, not allowing direct contact until she could stand the tantalization no longer.  Her fore and middle fingers squeezed together, she stroked herself up and down the length of her pussy, sometimes slipping inside to collect the natural lubrication.  Her breathing became ragged as, eyes tightly shut, she did not move from her kneeling position but came all over her hand.

The door flew open and her lover walked in, offering his cock.  She took it fully into the back of her throat and reveled in his hand in her long hair.

“Good girl,” he said again.

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Exhibition Season

She is spread across the hood. Her skin glistens like the waxed paint. She flicks out her tongue and caresses her full lips, lingering at the corners where the skin pinches together, promising a crease of another sort.

I secure the ropes at her wrists and give those at her ankles a tug against the stakes in the ground. They hold. She purses her lips and pushes out her chest. The bikini barely hides her puckered nipples. I reach beneath her and untie the string.

The bikini tumbles away down the slick side of the car and her breasts fall free. I treat her to three quick laps to each nipple with my tongue; she squirms and her crotch, hidden by the bikini bottom, rubs against the hood ornament. I imagine the taste: metal, flesh, arousal. I’m getting hard.

I slide down her silky side and nuzzle the place where her torso meets her legs. She giggles, the first sound without an intention of sensuality, and I get rock hard. I catch her eye. Even though she tries, she can’t completely hide her smile.

Catching the string in my teeth, I tug the bikini bottom’s knot free, then the other side. I flip it over my shoulder so it lands out in the field. I hope she can’t find it. Some evidence of what we’ve done here should remain.

Now she starts to wriggle in earnest, testing the knots. I have done my job well and she gets no leeway. Leaving one last kiss right above her pussy, I step back to admire my work.

Her brown hair falls in curls around her head, pillowing her neck. Her face is red from exertion and arousal. She has a soft birthmark just inside her thigh. She is completely trapped against the hood of my Mercedes.

I step towards her and gather saliva in my mouth. I bend over her, centered over the hood ornament, and I begin to taste her. Slowly. With deliberation. With every stroke of my tongue, I think of a reason I love her.

For her part, she gives in. Trusts me. Her thighs blush with the blood rushing to accommodate her desire. I kiss them too, savoring each flavor of her skin, her sweat.

Finally I need her more than I can stand. I slide her gently to one side and, for the first time, stand on my toes so I can kiss her. She succumbs with a soft moan.

I am ready. She is more than welcoming, gaped open by the ropes but still tight with youth and care. I gather myself in one hand and slither to either side of her opening, the tip of my cock twitching with pleasure.

Inside, she is a shelter, a sanctuary. I find my way into her depths, pressing my body down on hers, listening for the telltale changes in her breathing. She pants; she wants it all. I give in, my cock relenting where my nature would tease her longer.

She comes first, flailing against the ropes, her face contorting into the beautiful, terrible intimacy of an orgasm. I follow her into bliss. For a moment, the universe exists for our pleasure. Not alone, but entangled.