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The TempleChapter 1 free porn video
F. Bernard Thompson stepped into the elevator on the fourth floor of an office building in northern Toronto, happy and satiated by his experience that evening at the massage parlor he was accustomed to visit from time-to-time. His wife and children had left the day before to visit his wife’s parents in Arizona, and wouldn’t be back for a couple of weeks. He was free as a bird and had decided he’d have some fun.
Alice had greeted him this evening with a big smile, but then said regretfully, “Sorry, Bernie, but Geeta’s not here tonight.” Geeta was Thompson’s favourite. Still in her teens, Thompson was absurdly besotted with her. But he liked his variety nonetheless, and tonight it was time for a change.
“I know that. I came here to see you instead.”
The first time he’d come to see Alice, she had seen him with some reluctance, and afterwards she told Geeta about it, offering her the money Thompson had given her, but was relieved when Geeta said that she had no problem with Alice or anyone else for that matter servicing Thompson. After that, Alice was very pleased to receive the lawyer now and again when he was driven by his needs to seek relief.
Tonight had been slow. Thompson was only Alice’s second customer, even though she’d almost finished her shift. She had no one at all booked after him, and so she decided to give him anything and everything her sexy mind could devise, in the hope of a generous tip. She took him to the jacuzzi room, and after the shower they stepped into the warm water, chatting together for a while and having a glass of wine. Then Alice got started.
After lubricating her hands with massage oil, she went to work on the man, but not just on his cock. Thompson sat back in the tub, almost upright, while Alice kneeled before him in the warm, soapy water, her mouth on his, his hands on her very ample breasts, her skin so dark that it was almost impossible to believe that her areolas were even darker. As their lips locked and their tongues intertwined, Thompson felt a warm, soft, oily hand gently touch his anus, probe tentatively, and insert itself slowly up his ass, heading unerringly for his prostate.
Geeta had anally stimulated him many times, and Thompson loved this. But Geeta had always used this as foreplay, or as a surprise addition when he released, to heighten his orgasm. Alice’s technique was different. At first she gently stroked the prostate, waiting until she felt her customer completely relax and stretch to accommodate her hand, which was rather larger than Geeta’s. After a few minutes, when she felt the man was ready, she whispered in his ear.
“Bernie, I’m going to do something special for you. I only do this for customers I really like. Now this might make you feel like you have to urinate, but I promise you it’s not real. Just be patient and wait, and you’ll be really glad you did.”
Thompson was happy to do as he was told. One thing he liked about seeing prostitutes was giving up control. In his world, he was always the man in charge, and he loved surrendering his sense of power to beautiful young women, doing their bidding, following their orders. And so he relaxed fully as the gorgeous Nubian goddess began to go to work on him.
Alice placed the pad of her third finger on the prostate, and began to gently stroke it repeatedly at very high speed, ignoring the man’s gasps as she did so. As Alice had warned, Thompson very soon felt the need to urinate, but ignored it and the sensation passed, replaced by a feeling that he’d never had before. He felt like he was going to cum, even though his cock had grown soft as the girl attended to him. He had not thought it was possible to feel sexual pleasure without an erection, and yet here he was, his hips starting to writhe slightly as he felt himself responding to the repeated strokes on his gland.
“Oh god that’s good don’t stop don’t stop oh jesus please don’t stop”, moaned Thompson as, incredibly, an orgasm like he’d never had before washed over him. It was not just that it was more powerful. The orgasm was also different in character. Normally when he came his main feeling was the joy and the ecstasy of the release, but here it was quite different: a huge surge of deep emotion, of love for Alice and all women, swelled within him, and he rode the crest, crying out as his orgasm peaked. Fluid leaked from his semi-hard penis as he rocked gently beneath the black beauty, her breasts swaying rapidly in time to her finger’s thrusts in his ass.
After Alice gave him time to settle down, she led him from the hot tub, dried him off and then settled him on the massage table, where another first awaited him. After taking him into her mouth and pleasuring him for a while, Alice moved her mouth lower, first sucking his balls while gently masturbating him, her tongue then probing lower, gently stabbing at his perineum, and then to Thompson’s amazement, Alice snaked her long, hot tongue up his ass, and tongue fucked him repeatedly as her hand shot up and down on his rock-hard cock with jackhammer speed. When she sensed he was cumming, her mouth took him in once more. When she felt the head of his penis swell, she pulled his organ from her mouth, just in time for the first sticky white rope of cum to jet from him, all over her beautiful face. Stream after stream followed, some landing in the girl’s mouth, some on her hair, a lot on her face, and the cum dribbled down in streams onto her superb 38D chest.
Alice showered, leaving Thompson to relax on the table. She got on and started to dry herself, and Thompson began to get up to shower.
“Where’re you going, honey?” asked Alice. “The show’s not over yet.”
Rather surprised, Thompson lay down again, and only now did Alice massage him. Really her purpose was to give him time to recover, and after a long, sensual massage of the customer’s back and legs, she turned him over, pleased to see that he was once again hard and ready. She deftly slipped a rubber onto him, and they fucked, seemingly forever so far as Thompson was concerned, first with Alice on top, then doggie style, then sitting, and finally finishing in the missionary position. While Alice was a very experienced whore, Thompson’s technique, combined with an above-average sized cock (and the fact she’d grown to like the man) overcame her usual indifference to being fucked by a customer, and soon Alice was moaning with the joy of her own release. Thompson had fucked Alice a couple of times before, and while it had been great for him, he’d known that she hadn’t orgasmed. But this was very different, and he was very flattered to feel the young girl’s powerful vaginal contractions squeezing him. “Oh god Bernie oh god keep going for me baby don’t stop give it to me hard oh please,” the girl groaned, undulating beneath him, and Thompson could only handle a few seconds of this before he came inside her with such force that his balls were still throbbing a short while later as he took the elevator downstairs.
Thompson headed out to the parking lot next door, his car parked outside the gym. He’d taken only a few steps when he saw only blackness as the hood slipped over his head, and strong, hands easily picked him up and dumped him in the open door of a van that appeared from nowhere. Shocked and disoriented, he did not even cry out until after the van door rolled shut, and by then it was too, too late, for his captors removed the hood only to tape shut his mouth. His hands were cuffed behind his back. He saw several women, one of whom produced a needle, and there there was nothing.
Thompson awoke in a small, cold cell. There were no windows other than a narrow slit of glass set above the door, and which did little to illuminate the room. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, and he was sitting in a corner leaning against the wall. Where his back made contact with the wall his body ached from the cold, and he moved himself forward a bit to get away from the freezing surface. He waited in fear for what seemed like hours, hungry, thirsty, cold and terrified. Eventually he heard sounds outside the cell door, and while this gave him hope that perhaps he might be fed or at least given some water, he feared that something worse was to come. The door opened, and two women walked in. Each taking an arm, they lifted Thompson to his feet and began marching him towards the door.
Thompson knew that there was no point asking any questions, and he went along without making a sound. He had decided that the best strategy on his part was to be docile. The two women led him down a long hallway lined with doors which probably led to cells. At the end of the hall was a double set of doors through which they entered, into a large, semi-circular room. A courtroom, in fact. A half-dozen other men in cuffs were seated in a holding area. At one end of the room was a raised dais, on which was seated a young woman, not older than twenty, and stunningly beautiful. A half-dozen other woman, all dressed in white tunics, sat at the foot of the dais.
Thompson’s guards seated him with the prisoners, and then joined the other women.
“Let’s get started”, said the young lady on the dais. “William Alvarez : stand up.”
A tall, arrogant-looking man in his mid-thirties got to his feet. Despite his ordeal, he looked rather sharp, his suit expensive, his shoes polished.
“I have some questions for you,” said the young woman. “First of all--” But she was unable to finish.
“YOU’VE got some questions? You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. I don’t have any fuckin’ idea why I’m here. I keep asking what the fuck is going on and nobody wants to tell me a goddamn thing!”
“I’ll give you another chance” said the woman. “If you answer my questions honestly, simply and briefly, you might actually walk out of here. Otherwise--”
But the woman didn’t get to finish her sentence.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you have any goddam idea who I am? If you knew who you were messing with--” the man was starting an enraged rant, and he did not notice the lady in charge nodding to one of the guards at the foot of the dais. The guard stepped forwards, and only when she got close to the prisoner and raised her hand did the man notice, and then it was too late. At the last second he started to move his head, but suddenly his body went limp and he slumped to the floor, dead.
“What you have just seen should be a good lesson for you all,” said the young lady in charge. “This fool was executed by having a metal bolt shot into his head using the same device employed by slaughterhouses for killing cattle. It’s our preferred method of execution for your kind.” A pause while the corpse was removed. Somewhat ominously, no one bothered to clean up the gore, as if there was no point in doing so just yet.
“Let’s try again with someone else, shall we? Charles Taylor: stand up.”
Taylor was a small man in his mid-fifties, and he was plainly terrified by what he had just seen, and disgusted by the bits of gray matter that had landed on him from the dead man’s shattered skull.
“Are you prepared to answer my questions?” asked the beautiful young woman.
“Please don’t kill me please I’m sorry please!” the man begged. The female attendants laughed at the man’s distress, and their leader, smiling, nodded at the guard bearing the mechanical pistol. Taylor began to writhe, frantically trying to raise his cuffed hands and screaming for mercy, but like the man before him, he died instantly when a long metal bolt pierced his skull. Two guards dragged the man’s remains out the door. There were but five prisoners left.
“That man failed to answer a direct question. The rest of you should learn by example. Answer my questions promptly and politely, and you might live. If you stall, prevaricate, or insult me, you will suffer instant death. Next: Francis Bernard Thompson.”
Thompson immediately stood up.
“Do you have any idea why you are here, Thompson?” asked the young lady, her voice a beautiful contralto, with the hint of an accent Thompson could not identify.
“Yes.”
“Would you care to explain?”
“Yes, please, if I am permitted,” said Thompson, striving to sound as deferential as he could.
“I give you permission to speak rather more expansively. If I want you to stop speaking, I will indicate as much.”
“Yes, ma’am. I was in a massage parlor just moments before I was arrested. I am wondering whether the reason I was taken relates to that; perhaps I am to be punished in some fashion for being there.”
“You surmise correctly, Thompson,” observed the young woman. She questioned him at some length, obtaining truthful answers from Thompson, for the most part monosyllabic replies confessing to the extent of his involvement with prostitutes: how long he’d been seeing them, how often, how many different women, how much money he’d spent. Thompson actually found the questioning rather easy, for he’d decided that he would simply tell the truth, concealing nothing. But he was baffled by the questions. Had he been kidnapped by some kind of bizarre women’s group?
“You may be seated, Thompson. Do not think that because you yet live that your answers have pleased me. They have not. You remain alive only because you answered my questions quickly, simply and as far as I can tell, truthfully. Let us see if the others do as well.”
Latisha
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