She chuckles. “Nah, never that, baby. But I’d like to stalk that sweet, tight pussy, again.”
She licks her plump, pillow-soft, pussy-eating lips. I watch as she pulls out a piece of cinnamon gum and folds it into her lush mouth. A tinge of jealousy creeps up in me, wishing it were my chocolate nipples being rolled into her mouth instead of chewing gum.
I feel my smooth cunt starting to slicken as I imagine her long tongue flicking up and down on my clit as she pushes three slender fingers deep into my swelling river of juices.
“Let’s go to one of the booths,” she offers, her voice throaty and filled with lust. Salacious intent dances in her eyes, her attention completely focused on me.
I give her a coquettish grin. “Why on earth would I want to do that? A lady never walks off with strange women.”
“Then don’t be a lady. Be a tramp.”
I can’t help but smile. “I don’t even know you,” I tease. “You could be some pervert looking to molest me.”
She steps in closer. I breathe in the scent of coconut oil and cinnamon and feel myself getting lightheaded as I’m being mentally transported to a Caribbean island, the lick of a warm breeze caressing my skin, tickling my senses and causing my nipples to harden.
She smirks. “You don’t need to know me, ma. I’m not a pervert. But I’d damn sure like to molest you.”
“Right, right. I forgot. We don’t need names,” I say, repeating her words to me from our first encounter. “You’re anonymous.” I take a slow, deliberate sip of my drink.
She grins. “Exactly, baby. All you need to know is, I wanna eat that pussy real quick, then stretch it open with my cock. I know you remember how I made you feel a few weeks back. I know I do. I loved the way you sucked my dick, then gave me all of you.” She slowly glides her tongue over her top lip. “Mmm . . . all that good pussy.”
“And the way you sucked my dick . . .” She shudders. “Damn. You got some good mouth.”
“You have good dick,” I bashfully admit, swallowing back the drool gathering in my mouth. “I loved sucking that big chocolate dick.”
She grabs her crotch, revealing her thick imprint. “You can get it again. It’s all yours, baby.”
A slow burning fire starts in the pit of my belly, then fans out along the lining of my uterus, causing the juices in my pussy to steam. I glance around the dimly lit room and start to notice semi-inebriated women stripping out of their clothing. The gleam of half-naked bodies shimmer under the moonlight. The glow of flickering candles reflecting off the glass walls enhance the images, causing lusty silhouettes to dance about the room. The scent of arousal floats all around me. Wet pussies clickety-click-clicking, glistening cocks, sensual grunts and moans coming from the speakers heighten my need to be fucked. I strain to keep from getting lost in what’s beginning to unfold all around me.
Two stools to the right
of me, a beautiful cocoa-brown, plus-size vixen clad in a red bra and heels is bent over between the cocked legs of a brown-skinned cutie with a low-top fade, feverishly sucking her long purple dick as if she’s auditioning for a starring role in a Deep Throat Diva film.
It takes everything in me not to topple over when a short stocky stud with long thick braids sidles up in back of her, pulls open her ass cheeks, then shoves her face in between her ass and starts tongue-fucking her before pushing what looks to be close to nine inches of condom-wrapped cock into the back of her pussy. The stud immediately begins to bang fast and hard in and out of her, assaulting her pussy with each stroke.
My own pussy feels left out.
I swallow, hard . . . wishing it were me.
“Maybe later on. But in the meantime, can I at least get a name?”
She grins. “It’s Anonymous, remember?”
I playfully roll my eyes, dismissing her with the flick of my wrist. “Whatever.”
The seductive sounds of Art of Noise fade from the speakers, and a husky voice comes through. “Okay my freaky, horny lil’ femme beauties. Welcome to The Stud Palace where erotic passions and sensuality meet. If this is your first time up on the rooftop, you’re in for a real sexy treat. If you’ve been here before, then you already know how we do it up here away from the other club patrons. And ladies . . . what’s done in the CockTail Lounge, stays in the CockTail Lounge. So without further ado, feast your eyes on some of The Stud Palace’s most scrumptious, hottest, finger-licking, make-your-hearts-flutter-pussy-melting stud-bois in the Tri-State area.”
The thirty or so women who are in the room eager to be fed start clapping and catcalling as one hot stud after another hits the floor. Chiseled bodies, toned bodies, some more masculine than others, dark, light, and every skin tone in between with locks and long braids and cornrows and waves, all work the floor. Some are barefoot donned in boxer briefs and wife beaters; some in baggy sweats and wife beaters with crisp white sneakers; others wearing camouflage pants and combat boots. Some have on colorful do-rags, others have on fitted hats, the brim snapped down over their eyes.
My God! Where has this place been all my life?
I lick my lips, feeling like a little kid let loose in a candy shop. So many choices, so many pleasures to indulge.
“Now ladies,” the voice continues, “the rules are simple up here at the CockTail Lounge: Play nice. Fuck hard. Indulge all of your freaky fantasies. Share if you will. And be sure to come over and over. Now who’s ready to be transported to ecstasy beyond your imaginations?”