Agatha Allbut The Bimbo Squad 01 Prologue
- 4 years ago
- 29
- 0
Serenade free porn video
Hello. Allow us to tell you the story of how we met, D’aunne and I. A story so fanciful that one would think it impossible. But rest assured, it is quite a reality. It begins and ends in Rome, upon a star-filled night, within the walls of the House of Nicolae…
I came upon her in the moonlight, three stories up, overlooking the illumination that is the city. The balcony was wide and statued, and standing as she was, she fit well into the surroundings, as the only clue to her mortality was her light dress moving slightly in the breeze.
An inebriated couple rudely jostled past me, oblivious both to the Denise Jannah playing softly inside, as they danced off time, and to the building atmosphere on the balcony, as they loudly professed their lust for each other in gruff, masculine voices.
I’ve never understood how a man could leave the softness of a woman’s sides, the curve of her derriere combined with the sway of her hips, and her proud nipples standing firm upon the pillows of strong desire, for one of his own… Quite frankly, I think it’s downright stupid. I mean, look at her!
Appropriately, Ginuwine was playing in the background as my focus returned to the pleasure before me, the pleasure of pleasures, a woman – ‘…make me say mmm, mmm, daaamn! mmm!’
She had turned now, probably in response to the others, and was walking slowly towards the Martinique fountain. I dropped my wine….
I turned sharply to my left, the sound of crystal shattering against the marble floor startling me from my quiet fantasy. A man stood by the Delorean entrance to the balcony, seemingly looking at me, though I couldn’t tell since he was backing the ballroom lights, and it cast his face in shadow. I thought about engaging him in some adult banter, but thought better of it as the others flashed back into the ballroom by way of the Centaurian door. After all, coming on to a gay man and being rejected wasn’t my idea of intimacy. I continued to the fountain, sat on the side, dipped my hand into the deliciously warm water, and retreated again to my fantasies….
(Shit.) I made my way inside so that I could clean the wine off my slacks and shoes, and the embarrassment off my face. Safely inside the men’s room I not-so-silently cursed myself for losing control so easily. (You dropped the glass?!?!?! Hopefully the light stopped her from seeing who it was..) Never had I lost it like that. NEVER. Not even in primary school when my first love Jan kissed Wayan in the chalk room. Self control had always been my strongest point, and my losing it then could only have meant one thing: she had to be a special one…..
(NO!) I pushed that thought as far away as possible, and quickly headed again into the activity, which by now had changed dramatically …..
I had just broken off a most lustful kiss with my fictional ‘Jean-Pierre’, when I noticed a change in the atmosphere. I opened my eyes to dimmed lights in the grand ballroom, and an almost tangible silence. I gathered my purse and shawl, and hastily replaced my shoes, I couldn’t resist twirling my feet in the water, so had hiked up my gown, sat on the side and done it. Heck, it was the closest I could get to being truly moist that night. So I thought. As I entered the room, I noticed everyone facing the center, where a small triangular stage was rising. It stopped at waist level, then a cylindrical stage rose out of the center of the triangle, it’s top stopping at eye level. In my amorous state I couldn’t help but to realise a sexual significance to the triangle and cylinder:female and male representations of intercourse, or preferably for my present mood:an all out fuck. On a table. With wine being licked from every part of my body. (Behave yourself D’aunne!)
It was considerably darker now, and as my eyes adjusted to the new lighting, I saw three people standing atop a strange stage: an amply endowed female of motherly age, dressed for the night’s occasion, a younger man standing handsomely next to her in full formal attire, and another man in front of them with a head mic upon him. The woman was quite sexy, and I found myself drifting into past readings of Literotica, a hardness rising in my slacks, unrestricted, since I wore no undergarments. I enjoyed the sensation, for it had been a while since I had been loved by an older woman. She had been so kind in the act, so giving, unlike any woman ever. Or since. (I miss you, Celine.)
Mr. head mic gave his introduction in a quiet, steady voice.
‘Gentlemen and Ladies, may I present to you this evening’s entertainment?’
As customary at these events, the question required an answer. Unlike too many things today, everything at Nicolae’s dances had meaning, and that is why his dances were so heavily attended, despite the astronomical entrance fees. The crowd voiced in the affirmative.
‘Thank you. They have come from an island off the coast of Antigua. They are singers, with an extraordinary gift of range. It has been rumoured for many years that the Sirens of Odyseus do exist, and THAT is quite true, for here they are before you.’
A rumble in the crowd.
‘Yes, it is hard to believe, even more so since one of these is a man, but believe me, their voices do seduce. So much so that I must now ask all single persons to adjourn to the common room, as this has just become strictly a couples affair. Those singles who stay do so at their own risk of emotional discomfort.’
Nobody moved.
‘Very well. Gentlemen and ladies, I present to you …. ‘The Serenade’.
Neither singer moved until the M.C was out of the room. The ushers closed all exits, and I knew why from my experiences at Nicolae’s. With the doors closed, this room was completely, unshakingly sound proof. Not even the sounds of WWII could escape, and it worried me a little. I clutched my purse and drew my shawl tighter around me. The woman in the gucci-link chain retreated to a corner, pulling a surprised man with raven hair along with her.
It was slightly unnerving, being shut in a room full of couples after that speech. I grabbed a glass of wine from the buffet table, noticing that the servers had left with the ushers, and gulped it down. I was no longer hard.
The music came slowly through the speakers- R.Kelly’s ‘If I could turn back the hands of time’, and as the man began to sing, every woman in the room who had a man simultaneously held him closer. Those who did not were visibly shaken. I watched them all as their mouths opened slightly, and their faces became a mixture of nostalgia, slight emotional pain and lust.It was if they were all being reminded of a long lost love, memories previously locked deep inside their hearts. The couple in matching Armani apparel began to dance sensually. One lady in particular had found a chair, but she turned it around and slowly straddled it with her chest to its back, much like a man would sit. In this position she let her hair down, cocked her waist back, and slowly began gyrating to the music. Looking around the room I saw that the ladies with men were gyrating and sliding themselves all over their partners in the most lascivious fashions. Every woman had her hair down, her legs spread and waist in motion. I turned my attention back to the woman in the chair just as she threw her head back, and the song ended. It was the woman from the balcony.
(What the fuck?!?) My hair was open, my purse and shawl were on the floor and I could not remember sitting down. I saw other women in the room looking as bewildered as I was, and I wondered if they were feeling as warm as I was. My thoughts were confimed as more than a few of them started fanning their chests, one woman unconsciously sliding her hand along her stomach towards herself. I realised three things then: my hand was also upon my stomach, just short of pleasure, the coupled women were all hungrily kissing their men, and every single man in the room was smiling. I felt eyes upon me and turning, saw two sparkling brow
n eyes loving me. I looked him up and down. Those shoulders, the line of the body from his arms to the waist…mmmmmm……the bulge in his slacks ….HAD to have him!(what was I saying?!?) Uncharacteristically, I locked eyes with him, and slowly stood, the splits in the gown showing my legs to the optimum.(What am I doing here?!?! fuck it! He looks great, and I am too horny!) Transfering my weight to my right leg, I bent my left at the knee and lifted it over the back of the chair. S-L-O-W-L-Y. (I knew those ballet lessons would pay off). He was mesmerised as I placed my leg down, and sashayed towards him enticingly, my legs sliding through the two splits in my gown, fucking his brain. Just then the woman on stage began to sing – ‘I don’t want to wait’ by Paula Cole, and my man started to unbutton his suit, stopping me dead in my tracks.(Surely he ain’t gonna undress in fronta alla these strangers?!?!)
I remembered the woman on stage starting her song, but I didn’t remember her finishing it. Neither did I remember the men in the room taking off their shirts and unbuttoning their slacks, as I myself had obviously done too. I stood there with my chest heaving, sweat trickling along my torso and one hell of a hard on. The men with women were all engaged in ecstacy, while the single guys stood there observing the scene as I did. All of a sudden I realised that each single man had a woman staring at him from across the room. One guy, the high brown brother with the curly hair and the diamond platinum rolex, had two.(Typical.) Of course, expecting to be included in this pattern, my eyes sought. They found the lady from the balcony, and most certainly, from the chair. My mind was racing, calculating all that lay before me, summing up to a conclusion. The lady from the balcony and everyone else in the room concluded at the same time, since we all turned towards the stage at the same instant. Somewhere in the front of the room, someone started to clap. It caught on quickly, and soon the whole room erupted into applause. The M.C returned to give his ‘I told you so’s’, and I drew close to my lady. We subsequently related our perspectives of the past ten minutes, growing hotter with each related detail and emotion, smiling and giggling immaturely and with adult mischief.
‘…and now everyone, the ‘climax’ of the night’s entertainment. A duet!’
The implications of that statement missed no-one in the room, and the curly haired brother couldn’t contain his joy. It would be the first time he would be ‘munching carpet’ and being rode at the same time, both acts the subjects of his deepest fantasies. His two ladies didn’t wait for the song to begin, attacking him with a ferocity that only lionesses possess. They were both heterosexual, and wasted no time putting him on his back, freeing his cock and putting it to use. The brunette helped the sistah get his manhood firmly planted inside her ebony body, before situating her own flowing river at his lips………
I could not help myself as the singers began. I released my shoulders from the straps of my gown, exposing myself to my sexy man’s caresses…
I dropped my slacks and accepted her body wholeheartedly, inhaling her scent as my senses became one with her being, and her hands found my chest…
His body rippled with tense masculinity. I took him in my hands as his fingers, lips, tongue, breath, eyes and soul caressed every part of me. My clit was growing in his mouth, as he sipped and gulped at my wine, rotating, sliding and flicking his tongue into every possible part of me. I was rising quickly, mentally and physically, as in the back of my mind I realised I was no longer standing……
All around us sex was erupting. The woman in the gucci-link chain was fellating with gusto upon the tall man with raven hair, and the Armani couple were locked in a standing sixty-nine. I had taken her up then, with her hands still grasping my cock. She was supported in one arm while my fingers played within her sex…
With my legs wrapped around his waist I released one hand from his cock and placed my arm around his neck. I slipped my tongue between his lips, as the wave began to crash over me……
This was it. I felt her femininity pulsating and knew she was almost there. Sliding my fingers to her clit I allowed her body to slide downwards onto my cock. I entered her thoroughly, expanding willfully as she began to ride me, suck me, squeeze me, fuck me with her cunt. Her beautiful, wet, womanly cunt!
He was in me so deep! It was if his cock was embracing my entire body, squeezing orgasm after orgasm from my core! I felt a coldness on my back, and realised that he had placed me against the wall. He was really going to give it to me. My ‘Jean-Pierre’ …….
‘Give it baby, yes!’
‘Yes!’ I was groaning, wailing and exclaiming all at the same time. She had me wide open, and I was not ashamed.
I fucked him silly from that wall, throwing everything AND the kitchen sink onto his black dick, pulling him along, trying to suck his whole body into me…..
I fucked her silly on that wall, pile driving myself between her legs like a freight train, pushing her along, fucking her with my whole body…..
My lips were on his neck, his chest, his shoulders, as my nails dug into his back, making him harder and longer within me….
My hands were on her ass, her legs, her breasts, as my lips assailed her neck and chest, sending shivers through her and fully lubricating her walls……
We came in torrents, flooding every which way, giving all that could be given, breaking down doors and shattering records of multiorgasmic proportions. We did not end until we were finished completely, both of us as spent as yesterday’s dollar. And as we lay in a heaving pile at the foot of the wall, we looked through half closed eyes around the room at all the couples wrapped up in erotic entanglement. The high brown brother was going at it doggy style with the brunette, while the petite sistah lay on top of the brunettes back, knees pulled back to her ears, and high brown’s tongue fucking her twat. Man, he was working that fantasy to the hilt! They exploded together, high brown grabbing onto brunette’s hips and sistah sistah grabbing high brown’s head, thrusting it into his face.
Eventually everyone finished, and little by little the room began to empty. I gave my lover a massage before we dressed and made ready to leave, never saying a word, yet communicating fully with looks, smiles and touches. Outside, the sun was just rising on a beautiful sunday morning. A gentle breeze wafted its way through the trees, and somewhere in the distance a bird found its mate calling, and answered cheerfully.
There was never another party at Nicolae’s ( the House of Nicolae was declared a museum resort a week later), and no-one remembered seeing the Sirens leave, but we will always remember the night we received ‘The Serenade’, and the beginning of our love.
Madison
- 11.12.2021
- 35
- 0
Little slut visits me before work
- 2 years ago
- 31
- 0
The Farmers Daughter Chapter Four
- 4 years ago
- 26
- 0
