Brando: Part Two (Brando, #2)

I watch her ass slink away and it gets me so hard that I’m about ready to ravage the first woman I see on the dancefloor.

I turn around, and lock eyes with the blonde bombshell. She’s still dancing, arms in the air, curving her body like a snake, but her eyes are on me. I watch her a while, and she continues to move, spinning her body around so I can get a good look at the curves every other guy in the club has been salivating over for the past hour.

I start to move towards the door – the side exit – and she moves along with me. We’re on opposite sides of the room, but it’s like we’re connected. She can see what’s in my eyes, and I can see what’s in hers. Desire. Power. Sex. We move through the club like predator sharks after the same prey, still looking at each other, until we draw close at the exit.

She’s nearly as tall as me – and I’m no shrimp in any department. She’s wearing a little black dress that sets off her long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes perfectly. It also allows her to show off a pair of long, slim, powerful legs that I wanna get between.

The exit leads to a side alley that I happen to know well at this hour: it’ll be dark, discreet, and more than safe. I open the door for her, and it’s the last gentlemanly thing I do. As soon as it shuts behind us we’re grabbing each other and grinding our bodies together like we hate each other as much as we want to fuck each other.

She puts her hands on the back of my head and pulls me towards her, thrusting her tongue down my throat, tongue-fucking me as I bite and suck at her cherry-flavored mouth. I run my hands aggressively down her back, tracing the curve that leads to her ass, and grab it hungrily, pulling her leg up against my hip, and running my other hand down her thigh, then back up inside her skirt.

Ms. Long Legs can’t even catch her breath quick enough to moan properly. Shaking her ass on the dancefloor was foreplay enough, now she’s wet and ready. I press her up against the wall, and slip my hand under her thigh to find a sweet wetness below. She just shudders a little and pulls me closer aggressively.

I roll my fingers around her barely-there underwear, feeling the inviting softness of her *. She pulls her head back, looks up at the sky, and exhales deeply, her chest sinking beautifully.

I get a good grip on her panties and tear them off her in a single, powerful stroke.

It turns her on even more.

She lets out a little panting growl and wraps the toned elegance of her long legs around my waist. “Give it to me.”

She didn’t need to say a word; I already know she wants me inside her. I can smell it on her, the delicious scent of a ripe * enticing me like some sweet confection.

This woman is strong, and if I didn’t spend hours in the gym sculpting abs that you could drink champagne out of, she’d be crushing my bones with her ferocious sex-grip. I undo my pants and roll on a condom in a swift gesture, practiced many times, and release my rock-hardness against her. “Is this what you were asking for?”

“Hell yes.”

She gyrates like a pro, angling me just inside her. Squeezing those thighs against the fabric of my pants, heaving her chest up and down as her body begs me to enter it fully.

I push myself inside her, and the modelesque bone structure of her face turns into an expression of uncontrolled pleasure. It’s like I’m filling more than her *, like I’m filling every inch of her body with hot-blooded passion; reaching corners she never knew she had, so deep that it’s almost spiritual, if she’s into that kind of thing.

She’s still pulling me inside her, deeper and deeper, pleasantly surprised to find out how much I’ve still got to give. And I’m only just getting started. Her hands are on her own head now, clutching and pulling at her hair like she’s scared her head is about to explode.

I roll off the strap of her dress and pull it down to reveal a firm, round breast, a hard, girlishly-pink nipple inviting me to put my lips on it. I kiss it softly and she groans— the combination of my hard dick invading her deeply and the tender touch of my wet mouth on her nipples is almost too much for her to handle.

I’m ready to come. I’ve been ready since she put those amazing legs around me, but that’s my first rule – ladies come first. No matter how long it takes them– although with me, that’s never long at all.

I nibble at her cleavage, then move my lips up to her slender neck, tracing the soft muscles with my tongue, and bringing my hand to her breast, where I roll her nipple between my fingers.

“Oh God,” she groans, drawing out the last word. I’ve been called worse.

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