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Brownstones and Balconies
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Brownstones and Balconies
A spring evening, warm wind languishing down the streets,
tossing the leaves from a long winter into a doorway. We stroll
along among the many people out enjoying the night. Turning in
at the brownstone, we pull up short in the doorway for a quick
kiss. Mmmmmmm, I started to pull away but your hand came up and
slid behind my head, tugging, bringing me back down. We chuckled
and our teeth clicked. I slid past your lips, past your soft
cheek and on to your ear. What delicacies are your ears, tender
whorls inviting me deeper into a trance. The words come easily
to my lips. I tell you in a whispered urgent tone of my love.
My hands on your ribs feel your breath rising and falling,
catching with the words. How I do want you, in an urgent way in
the doorway of this apartment building, people walking by close,
talking. I come back to the reality of your palm against my
chest, my thumbs against your nipples, my fingertips resting
lightly on your sensitive ribs, breath heaving. We sigh and
part, the spell broken for now.
Running up the stairs, laughing, ringing the bell, and
being swept into a party already in progress. The noise, the
heat, the heavy aromas of so many bodies, so much perfume, and
smoke and other more animal odors of people in heat. Like a wash
it hits me and I struggle with the power of it. Nasty comes my
mood, with a feeling in my teeth of wanting to bite. I go into
the living room.
It's great to see all the people again. It's been a while
since we got together and the conversation flows fast, the jokes
and the taunts and the barbs, blood pressure raised quickly and
just as quickly dropped.
The hours pass in human time until midnight chimes. I
raise my head to scent you.... in the kitchen, out of all the
odors, I follow yours. Pushing past the press of people in the
hall. The feel of bodies pressing close for that tantalizing
instant, a hand on the shoulder takes on such power, the gentle
slide of fingers on lightly covered flesh. A hand strokes me as
I go past, I flatten myself against the silk covered torso, up
against the wall. My hunger flares as I bear down on the hips,
pulling them to me, the sudden intake of breath at the feel of my
swelling desire. I break the clinch and swipe the back of my
hand over the lips and teeth that are bared in front of me. A
hand truculently grips my balls and I rotate my hips in longing.
Moving on into the kitchen, I cast my thoughts ahead to excite
you.
Sure enough you hear me come through the door, though I
make no sound audible to the human ear, and certainly none
distinguishable in this din. I can see the shake of your head,
then your shoulders sway. The movement travels down that
delightful spine, the muscles of your back that have arched so
often above me and beneath me. Your hips start to sway just as I
come up close and press against you. You push back, distracted,
missing a cue in your conversation.
Embarrassed, you half turn and playfully slap at my hands
which have circled your waist. Trying to draw me into the
conversation, unsuccessful, you turn and see the half smile
about my lips and the come-on look in my eyes. Come on, come on,
come on, come onto my stiff cock you delicious lover. Come with
great gasping breaths while you lock me in with your desire.
Desire sparks desire, mine and yours. You bite your lip. I lean
forward as if to whisper in your ear, but all I do is groan, and
turn away. Torn by the need to seduce the delicious green eyed
beauty you were talking to, and the need to, to, to, Ohhhh Damn!
Just the need to be with a lover who has laboured long and hard
to show you some ecstasy.
I'm already passing back through the horde, smiling,
grinning, lips touching, good night! Goodnight! See yas later,
eh?
I mentally tug on the cord tied to your crotch. The others
knotted about your nipples. Through the mass of flesh I feel you
move to follow, leaving, the green eyes follow you hungrily.
I grab my long coat and go out on the balcony for a breath
of air, the party just inches away behind the sheer curtains. The
sound fades as I draw a deep clear breath. I lean over the
railing to see the people on the street just a few feet below. A
swish of the curtains, a temporary blocking of the sound as you
come through the door and put your arms around my waist, leaning
your cheek on my back, moulding yourself against my buttocks. I
don't move, frozen, waiting to see what will happen. Your hands
have such a life of their own, strong and soft, slipping inside
my coat, inside my shirt, tweaking me, stroking, sliding inside
the cotton. They slide to the sides of my hips and grip me
lightly almost carelessly, then snake sensuously inside the
pockets of my slacks. Uuuuunh! What a grip, tender, strong,
light. I would go far for a grip like that, teasing me out here
on the balcony with the party behind us and the people below.
Your fingers slide delicately over my erection, teasing......
back and forth, up and around.
I feel you shiver and realize you are just wearing your
shirt against the cool night. You turn me around and face to
face, you stand inside the folds of my long warm coat. Our
breaths turn instantly to steam. You press a finger to my lips,
then with a teasing smile and a pat to my pressure point you turn
to bend over the railing, your back to me inside my coat that
hangs nearly to my ankles. I laugh and slide my hands in your
pockets. You reaction is swift, bending your knees, rubbing the
crease of your bum up and down against me, spreading your knees
to give me access to the delights of your musky dampened crotch.
My fingers slide over your backthrust hips, down the inside
of your thighs, teasing, then return to your belt. I can hear
your breath catch as I undo the catch of your pants. They are so
roomy, I can slide my hand down inside to tantalize your bare
thighs. You arch your back lower, raising your hips in that
unmistakable rutting movement, a gentle roll in time with my
fingers sliding, pressing, gripping you through your underwear.
Your pants fall in a puddle around your ankles and you gasp as
the cool night air puffs kisses against your dampness. Oh, so
ready to get fucked. I grasp your underwear, pull it down
slightly until I can move it to the side. My cock springs easily
from it's confines, and I let go for the few seconds it takes to
lubricate and slip on a condom. You shiver in cold, and at the
thought of the latex. I don't delay, since you are already hyped.
I guide my charger to your opening. Damn, the underwear
gets in the way. Frustrated, I take out my clasp knife and cut
through the flimsy material. It falls in tatters inside the
puddle of your pants. Gripping the nape of your neck with my left
hand, and my erection with my right, I bend my knees and nose it
up inside you. You grunt and flex your knees to take it in. Your
back arches down. My hand entwines your hair to pull back your
neck. You are shaking with the urge to be driven. Slowly, you
are opening to accommodate my length. I slap your hip with my
open hand, and reach around in front to feel your desire.
Grabbing you hard and forcing you back with my fingers, I slide
all inside you. The warmth of your buttery buns pressing against
my stomach.
I lean forward, still holding back your head, and my teeth
graze the straining side of your neck. You wince and jerk at the
pain, but there is nowhere to move to. I have you right where I
want you, spread open, split naked in front of me, hot and
panting, skewered on my stiff poker, ready for the serious stuff.
You start as a voice sounds from the party inside but I tighten
my grip, flexing my knees and take a newer deeper thrust. The
slippery juice of our rut is matting the hair above my cock and
on my balls. I feel it on the inside of your thighs when I press
there with my long fingers. I lean closer over you, pressing
you into the railing, moving inside you now and using my hand and
fingers at the same time. Your sleek muscles grip me and you
move as if to rise up again. I growl and sink my teeth into the
back of your neck. My hand that held your hair slides up under
your shirt and squeezes your nipples in time to my grinding
fingers and crotch. I see your eyes staring blindly at the
passersby on the street below, your mouth slack, your whole body
tensed, pleading, anguished, pleading to be taken over the edge,
your lower opening welcomes me. Aaah! The voices only inches
behind us and I feel you start to quake, to shake, to squirm
your ass against my belly, grabbing my hand and using it on your
crotch to fully satisfy your lust.
I growl against you one last time, then slowly relax my
grip. My hands ache with the tension, my knees are weak, I slump
over you, my cheek on your shoulder. My erection recedes and
falls out with a silent plop. You realize your nakedness and bend
to draw up your pants. I remove the condom into a kleenex and
stuff it into my pocket. I slip my half-hard member back inside
my pants and zip them up. You turn from your redressing and
close your teeth on my collarbone. Turning your head coyly to
the side you look so inviting. I know you are thinking of the
green eyes in the kitchen and the long night before the dawn
ahead.
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