Smoke, Fire and Desire

by Melinda Barron

  Rhylie focused her gaze on his crotch. A thick bulge there let her know he enjoyed his work, very much. She bit her bottom lip, wanting to pull the pants from his body, see his cock spring to life, take it in her mouth and suck. Hard. She imagined running her lips around the head, tasting the little drop of moisture that would appear, tickling the slit until he hissed his pleasure. Then she would...

  A snap of his suspenders broke her fantasy, and she glanced up at him. Dark eyes communicated his desire, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was thinking, and how much it turned him on. He ran his fingers over the bulge, his hips still gyrating to the relentless beat.

  Then he gave his pants a yank, and they separated at the sides. He threw them over his head as the crowd howled its approval. The little G-string he wore didn’t hide his arousal. His cock peaked over the top, growing with each second, snaking toward his belly button.

  His finger caressed the underside of his shaft, lightly tracing the prominent vein. “Do you like what you see, my little Rhylie?”

  She nodded, wanting again to lean over and take him in her mouth. He was long and thick, and it had been so long since she’d been with a man, and seeing him made her insane with desire. He stroked himself, making a circle with his thumb and forefinger, then he leaned toward her.

  A roar from the crowd made her jerk back, and she looked out, not seeing past the darkness of the stage. Behind her fireman another fireman danced, entertaining the crowd. Rhylie’s eyes narrowed in confusion as the dancer she’d chosen tugged the side string of his costume, pulling it from his body and leaving him completely naked.

  He stroked himself again, and Rhylie moaned softly, the moan turning into a heavy groan as his free hand caressed her thigh, gently sliding over her skin.

  “Open for me.” His accent confused her just a little. She hadn’t noticed it earlier. It was European, maybe Italian? Or Spanish?

  Who cares? Rhylie thought, opening her thighs at his command. The crowd wasn’t paying any attention to them. They were watching the other dancer as he strutted back and forth, his hips moving in a sensual rhythm.

  Her dancer lifted one of her legs over the arm of her throne, and her dress shifted above her hips. He touched her panties and they disappeared, making her gasp. How had that happened? Clothing didn’t just disappear. It was impossible. She tried to close her legs, but he stroked her gently, her body turning to jelly under his touch.

  “Shush, little Rhylie. Don’t question. You’re mine right now. Relax and enjoy what I can do for you.”

  I had sex with a stripper on stage, in front of an audience. Top that one. She slunk into the chair and nodded, wondering where the practical, rational Rhylie had gone. He was kneeling now, both hands on her thighs, kneading her flesh and making her clit throb with even greater intensity.

  Fire burned inside her as he licked his lips then lowered his head between her thighs. The first sweep of his tongue made her arch into him, and the sharp little point he’d made with his oral appendage speared her folds, sliding into her wetness.

  Rhylie grasped the back of the chair and pushed herself into his mouth as he grasped her hips, his tongue sliding up and down her wetness. She bucked her hips as he feasted, sliding deeper into her, making her body shiver with pleasure. She lifted herself up on her hands as he slid his tongue inside her, flattening it and sliding it in and out, caressing her inner walls as she gasped for air.

  When he slid out and gave her inner labia one long, hot lap of his tongue, she shivered, then gasped as he captured her clit in his mouth, sucking it hard, then pushing the hood back and grazing the tight bud with his tongue.

  She came instantly, grasping his hair and pulling him closer, grinding herself into his mouth as waves of indescribable bliss rolled over her. He continued to nibble, his teeth gentle yet firm against her clit as aftershocks rolled through her. The pleasure subsided, and he licked her again, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves, sending her flying again.

  This time she screamed as the orgasm slammed into her harder than the first, tightening her muscles as he continued to bathe her with his tongue. Her body soared, lifting from the chair. Four gorgeous men at each limb held her up as the fireman devoured her, the pleasure almost unbearable.

  Rhylie undulated under his touch, pulling against her human bonds as he filled her with one, two, and then three fingers, sliding them back and forth as he continued to lick and eat her pussy. When she came a third time she screamed for him to have mercy on her body, which felt as if it were on fire, the flames licking at her nerve endings. He nibbled on her thigh, sucking heavily, and she giggled as thoughts of him marking her as his own spread through her. Her reasoning seemed to disappear as he stopped, his hand still stroking her now naked body, whispering words of endearment and encouragement, telling her to ride the pleasure, to fly to the heavens and back.

  Shockwaves of ecstasy filled her, making her feel as if she were soaring, her body tingling from the thrill. When he licked her thigh, then sucked the tender flesh into his mouth, she screamed out again, pleasure overtaking her as his thumb flicked over her clit, sending the over sensitized flesh into spasms yet again.

  When she finally came down, and registered where she was, she sat in her chair, fully dressed. He stood in front of her, his hips moving, his cock settled inside the tiny strip of clothing he wore.

  The ladies in the crowd yelled their approval as he leaned over and gently placed his lips on hers, his tongue soothing and soft as he licked her lips.

  “Happy birthday, sweet Rhylie.” He extended his hand, and a gold lamp appeared in his palm. He gave it out to her with a wink. “For you. It is my sincere desire that you would wish for me, and let me set you on fire again, hum?”

  “What’s your name?” She studied his eyes, marveling at the fact that they now looked amber, almost like a flame of desire burned inside them.

  “Alesandro. But my friends call me Sandro.” He stepped back and offered his hand. She took it and stood, clutching the lamp to her chest.

  “Thank you, Alesandro.” Her mind reeled at the fantasy she’d just produced, and in front of a thick crowd of women. What had she done? Had she screamed out when she’d come in her dreams? Or had she just lived the whole thing out in her mind?

  Heat spread up her cheeks as Alesandro continued to study her, as if he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking. Would he be disgusted to know she’d just had an incredibly life-like fantasy that he’d gone down on her, complete with three mind-blowing orgasms?

  “It was my pleasure, Rhylie. My extreme pleasure.” He stroked the lamp, letting his finger trail over the web between her thumb and forefinger. “And it will be my pleasure to serve you again, and again, and again. I can promise you that.”

  * * * *

  “Call him!” Cassidy pushed the phone across the bed toward Rhylie, who shook her head. They were back in the hotel now, all three of them without male companionship.

  “He didn’t give me a phone number, just the lamp.” She picked up the birthday token. It felt warm in her hands, but she resisted the urge to stroke it. Her friends had already teased her mercilessly about the dance Alesandro had done for her, how her eyes had been glued to him the whole time as he’d strutted for the spectators, turning to her often to give her a little private dance before turning back to the ladies sitting in the audience.

  “I creamed my panties,” Cassidy said, taking a drink from a bottle of water. “He was hot.”

  “Very,” Elise said, wiggling her tongue.

  Rhylie cut her gaze toward the window as memories of her fantasy flooded her mind, how Alesandro’s tongue had sent her soaring higher than she’d ever been in her life. It was just proof that the mind was a powerful thing, she thought. All it took was one very well-formed male body to make her sexually-deprived body think he’d devoured her pussy, and she’d let him, while four men held her high in the air to be pleasured by his tongue.

  “Well, I’m going d
ownstairs to the bar,” Cassidy said, standing quickly. “Who’s with me? Maybe we’ll get lucky down there.”

  Elise quickly assented, while Rhylie demurred. “I’m tired.”

  “I would imagine so,” Cassidy said. “You had an orgasm, or two, up there, didn’t you? I would have been coming all over that chair.”

  Rhylie blushed. Her friends laughed, and then thankfully left without pushing the issue. She studied the lamp, pulling the top off and peering inside. She wasn’t sure what she hoped for, maybe a sheet of paper with a phone number on it, or a card with Alesandro’s name and address printed on it, along with a “meet me,” message.

  When nothing popped out she put the lid back into place, then set the lamp on the table. She lay down on the bed, still fully clothed, her body still tingling from the orgasms she’d had that night. She had “creamed her panties” just like Cassidy had said. The little strap of material had been soaking wet after the dance. She let her fingers slide over the dress and down to her thighs, which pulsed under her touch.

  “Alesandro.” She spread her thighs and touched her mons, her folds feeling strangely sore as if they’d been seriously worked over that night, as they had been in her dreams. She closed her eyes and imagined Alesandro standing in front of her, his eyes blazing that beautiful amber color, his cock in his hands.

  “Fuck me, Sandro, please.” She slipped her fingers inside her panties, touching her clit. She came with one stroke, her hips lifting from the bed as her climax peaked. She closed her eyes, imagines of the gorgeous dancer between her thighs fueling her dreams for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, did you finish that report on the sea levels for last month?”

  Rhylie tapped her eraser against her desk, then pasted on what she hoped was a sweet smile for her boss, Tony Marlow; that way he wouldn’t be so angry when she informed him she wasn’t done with the monthly report.

  “I’m working on it.” She tried to put force behind her smile when she noticed the frown take shape on his face. That report should have been done on Friday, before she left for her weekend trip to New York. She’d told herself she’d find time to work on it in the hotel room, but Cassidy and Elise had not allowed it.

  She’d assured herself she could finish it this morning. But all she’d been able to think about was Alesandro. She’d managed to do a little bit on the report, but that fell by the wayside when she went to the restroom to examine the tender spot on her thigh and discovered a hickey.

  A hickey. A love bite. A bruise from a man’s mouth on her thigh. And the only mouth that had been on her thighs was Alesandro’s. It could only mean one thing: Saturday night had been real. All of it. Despite what Cassidy and Elise said, Alesandro had gone down on her at the club, in front of a roomful of women, and they hadn't seen a thing. He’d licked and sucked at her most intimate flesh until she’d come again and again.

  How was that possible? The scientific part of her brain screamed that it wasn’t possible, and sometime during the night, when she’d been dreaming about Sandro’s touch, her fingers had caressed her thigh just a little too hard, and that’s what had caused the bruise.

  Deep down inside, though, Rhylie knew that wasn’t true. It was a hickey, pure and simple. Inadvertently, her fingers trailed over the jean-clad spot while Tony talked, reminding her that he had to have the reports in to the main lab in Chicago by Wednesday, and that he wanted time to examine it before he sent it in.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I fell behind this weekend, taking time off for my trip.”

  Tony’s frown lightened. “I know, it was your birthday and here I’m ruining the memories by yelling at you. Have it for me tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure thing, boss. I’m working on it right now.” When I’m not dreaming about a gorgeous dancer dressed as a fireman who licked me to glory and back Saturday night.

  “Great, don’t stay too late, though. I want it finished, but I don’t want you to kill yourself over it. You stay too late most of the time.”

  Rhylie knew that was his subtle way of telling her to get a life, as her friends had done this weekend.

  “Statistically, I don’t put in any more hours than you do, because I know that you work when you go home. The only difference is I’m staying here.”

  “You work at home too, Rhylie. I want you out of here by five tonight. No arguments, or exceptions. Understand? If the report’s not finished, then get it done in the morning, but don’t work on it at home. If I have to, I might lock you out of accessing the mainframe from your home computer.”

  Rhylie smiled and nodded, then turned back to her desk, listening to Tony’s footsteps as he headed down the hall. She knew he wouldn’t lock her out, or at least she hoped he wouldn’t. She shuffled some papers, taped a few keys on her keyboard, then let her fingers stray to her thigh again.

  Was a hickey supposed to burn? She’d never had one before, so she wasn’t really sure. This one did, though. Not a burn like you’d receive on your skin, but something that pulsed deep inside her, sending something that felt strangely like desire coursing through her.

  What had that gorgeous man done to her? Had he used some type of hypnosis, or maybe drugged her drink? Even if either of those scenarios was correct, how could he have performed oral sex on her, in front of everyone, without anyone seeing?

  Maybe it was twins. One of them danced to distract the crowd while the other feasted between a woman’s thighs. If that was happening, though, she needed to report The Cave of Pleasure to the authorities. They couldn’t take advantage of women like that.

  She’d received pleasure, true, but was it right to do it without a woman’s knowledge? She stared at her papers, then cast her gaze to her backpack. A quick glance at the clock showed she had a few hours before Tony’s self-imposed deadline of going home by five that evening. A little inspection of the lamp Alesandro had given her was in order.

  She pulled the item from her backpack and set it on the desk, frowning as she studied it. It seemed to be made of brass, and it looked exactly the same as it had on Saturday: a harmless souvenir. Of course, she’d never had a souvenir from an orgasm before. Truthfully, she hadn’t had that many orgasms, either. The ones she’d had Saturday evening didn’t count, since they were fantasies. Weren’t they?

  The hickey on her thigh throbbed and she touched it again, the burn of desire searing through her. She closed her eyes and imagined Alesandro before her, his chest bare, his cock peaking above the waistband of the tight fireman’s pants, throbbing in invitation.

  She swallowed hard and stroked the lamp, running two fingers from the spout to the handle. The brass felt warm to the touch, and Rhylie shivered as an imaginary tongue slid over her clit.

  She placed her palms on the edge of her desk and lifted up from the chair, putting all her weight onto her upper arms. The tongue swiped over her again, and she groaned, loudly.

  “That’s it, Rhylie. Come for me.” Sandro’s voice filled her tiny cubicle, and the tip of a tongue found her clit, flicking it back and forth. Rhylie came hard, grinding her still-clad hips into her invisible lover.

  “Very nice.” She pushed away, stumbling backward, her legs trembling.

  Sandro sat under her desk, naked. One hand stroked his long, thick cock while the other caressed his thigh. “Don’t leave me. Come back here and let me taste you again.”

  “Drugs. You must have put some sort of drug on the lamp, a hallucinogen. Ecstasy maybe? No, I think you have to ingest it. But you could have crushed it into a powder and rubbed the lamp with it. Absorbing it through the skin could cause hallucinations, right? Oh lord, I’m losing my mind.”

  “I’m no hallucination, Rhylie. You rubbed my lamp, and I came to you. I’m afraid, though, I was a bad djinni. I just could not resist another taste of your delicious pussy.” He licked his lips and pumped his cock. Rhylie’s heart went into overdrive.

  “Maybe it’s just stress, that’s it. Cassidy is always on me about w
orking too much. And I don’t sleep enough. I’m just sleep-deprived. Maybe I’ve fallen asleep at my desk, and you’re a dream. That’s it, not a hallucination but a dream. A fantasy.”

  “Thank you. I like being called a fantasy.”

  “Sixty-four percent of Americans don’t get enough sleep, you know. And I’m one of them. It’s finally caught up to me.”

  Rhylie ran her fingers through her hair, then rubbed her hands over her jean-clad thighs in rapid motion. Her palms were damp with sweat, and the pulse point in her neck beat out a fast rhythm. Her love bite throbbed in tempo to Sandro’s hand as it worked his cock.

  “Come back and sit,” he said, his voice soothing. “You’re not seeing things. I’m very real. Come and touch me and you’ll see.”

  “Hypnosis!” She snapped her fingers and started to pace her small cubicle. “That’s it. There must have been a chemical in the smoke at the club that made me susceptible to hypnosis. Of course, you can’t make a person do something under hypnosis that they wouldn’t normally do, since hypnosis is merely suggestion that takes hold in the brain. I’m not sure what that means about me seeing a naked man under my desk.”

  “Stop moving around.” The humor in his voice sent shivers up her spine. “Come and sit, talk with me. You haven’t been hypnotized, and I’m not a hallucination. You rubbed my lamp and called me forth.

  “You’re a djinni?”

  “I’m very impressed. Most people would call me a genie.”

  “There’s a difference,” Rhylie said, her voice low. “Djinn have free will, and you haven’t mentioned anything about being bound to me, as a genie would. You only said that I called you forth.”

  “Very good.” He palmed the head of his cock and Rhylie shivered, wondering what it would feel like to take his length into her mouth, to taste him as he’d tasted her the other evening.

  “Come and find out.” His grin was filled with a pure sensual delight. “I’m perfectly willing to be your test subject in that matter.”