“Don’t worry,” I say. “He’s nowhere near as scary as he seems. He’s just…”
“Fucked up. It’s okay. I’m fucked up, too.” She looks up at me then, blonde hair sticking out at crazy angles, and a slow smile spreads across her face. “How about you? Are you fucked up, Michael?”
“But of course.” I return her smile, wondering at the gentle pain that flickers in her pale blue eyes. “The most interesting people are, aren’t they?”
She nods. “Shall we be friends then?”
“I’d like that very much.”
TWO
“Where have you been, baby? I’ve been waiting for hours.” Sara’s sulking when I let myself into her apartment. Her husband, Cameron, is out of town on business, and she’s the most highly sexed person I’ve ever met in my life. She needs fucking at least twice a day otherwise she ends up strung tight as a violin and liable to explode at the drop of a fucking hat.
The sound of some serious, hard-core porn fills the apartment—some woman making gagging sounds, interspersed with breathless moans of pleasure. A voice echoes out of the speakers mounted on the walls in all four corners of Sara’s living room, and I recognize it straight away: it’s Cameron.
‘That’s it, baby. Mmm, yeah, that’s right. You like it? You like my dick in your mouth while he fucks you?’
So it’s not just porn, then. It’s one of ours. Both Sara and Cameron love to make movies. I don’t mind so much, as long as my face isn’t in any of them. Sure enough, when I check out the huge TV screen mounted on the wall, my cock is furiously thrusting into Sara’s pussy, larger than life and harder than hell. Cameron must have been in charge of the camera. The shot pulls back and then I’m watching Sara’s glossy red lips wrap around Cam’s dick, sliding up and down his length.
I’m not normally into this stuff—I’m more of a doer than a watcher—but today, walking into the apartment to find Sara in her silk dressing gown, smelling like sex, smelling like she’s already made herself come twice, and seeing how wet her pussy was the last time I fucked her on the TV, I’m finding that I want to watch some more. First, I have a routine to follow, though. I slip my arms out of my suit blazer, grinning at the red-headed woman pouting at me from her leather couch.
“Answer me,” she says. “You were supposed to be here at eleven. That was two hours ago. My pussy’s so sensitive now.”
“I had a work thing to deal with, sugar. I’m here now, though. And don’t worry…I’ve got something that’ll make you feel better.”
I met Sara and Cameron at one of Zee’s parties. Cameron loves sharing his woman. Loves watching her get fucked. Loves being in her ass while another guy’s in her pussy. She loves it, too. They’re the most deviant couple I’ve ever encountered, and I love that. The more fucked up, kinky, dark or downright naughty the sex is, the happier I am. There’s very little I won’t do. I’ve been with guys. I’ve been with girls. I’ve been with both at the same time more often than I can count. These days, I tend to stick to Sara and Cameron, though. Makes life simpler, and they don’t ask questions about what I do or where I am. Most of the time, anyway. Sara only asks when I keep her waiting and she’s climbing the walls.
“Cameron left a cigar for you on the counter,” she tells me as I loosen the top button of my shirt. She slowly runs her hands over the insides of her thighs, and the silk material of her robe slips away from her tanned, long legs, exposing her pussy. “You want to Monica Lewinski me with it, baby? I always had a bit of thing for Bill Clinton when I was a teenager.”
I arch an eyebrow at her, smirking. “Baby, I will give you a presidential fucking any day of the week. I’d rather smoke the cigar later, though.”
She grins wickedly, slowly trailing her fingers down her body, until the tips of her index finger and her middle finger are hovering over her neat, pink little pussy. She’s a master at making herself come. She can bring herself to climax in under two minutes if she really wants to. It brings me great satisfaction to know I can get her there quicker, though, especially if I’m using my tongue.