by Paris Dixon
He laced his fingers through hers, and without another word, led her off the dance floor to the rear of the nightclub. There, about a dozen booths lined the wall. While in college, Cassandra and her friends called them the "make-out booths." Each had a table with a cushioned seat fashioned in a half-circle. Black walls on either side of each booth gave it privacy. On each table sat a large candle; when the candle was lit, the booth was "free." A darkened candle, however, meant the occupants preferred "no interruptions" from waitresses or other patrons.
In the days following college, Cassandra and Robert had "visited" the booths on several occasions, using them as an area for cuddling and heavy petting while watching the live bands. Other daring couples, she supposed, had done more within the shadowed privacy, especially on evenings when club traffic was light—like tonight.
This evening, all but one candle glowed in the shadows. Jagger led her to a booth in the far corner, blew out the flame, and settled in the center of the semi-circle. Cassandra eagerly joined him. Immediately, she felt his large hands envelope her breasts. His lips teased her cheek and neck. She grabbed his beard-stubbled face and planted her lips over his, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. His tongue responded in kind, while his attentive thumbs made hard points of her nipples. His hot, runaway kisses electrified her. Currents of passion raced down her torso and into her groin.
Wild with lust, she groped the lengthy, rigid bulge in his crotch. Through the black leather, his erection pulsed against her palm. She fumbled with the zipper, needing desperately to clutch his flesh in her hands. Simultaneously, he danced his fingers up one of her bare inner thighs, then chuckled when he discovered her lack of undergarments. Happily, she spread her legs for him, giving him better access to the part of her that screamed for relief. He slid one finger, then another, into her heated dampness, while thumbing her nub in small, excited circles. She groaned her pleasure into his open mouth, savoring the spirited invasion.
Finally, Cassandra unzipped his pants, then smiled when she discovered he also wore no underwear. She yanked his white shirt halfway up his torso, then ran her fingers through his dense bush of pubic hair and dug out his shaft. Now, with her eyes adjusted to the shadowy darkness, she could just make out the uncircumcised, nine-inch rod beating against his furry, muscle-ridged belly. Saliva moistened her mouth as she waltzed her fingers over the fat, throbbing length.
"Suck it," he ordered.
Without hesitation, she lowered her head to his lap, where a delicious combination of cologne and masculine musk greeted her nostrils. She slid back his foreskin, then took a moment to bathe the glorious crown with her tongue. Reveling in his manly taste, she wrapped her lips around the meaty head and began to suck him with the hunger she felt, taking as much of him as possible into her gaping mouth.
Jagger wove his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. A devilish chortle reverberated through his torso. He mumbled various words of encouragement and spat guttural curses.
Soon, sweet droplets of pre-come roused Cassandra’s taste buds. While cupping Jagger’s large, hairy balls in one hand, she pumped the base of his cock with the other. She released him from her mouth and ran her tongue up, down, and around the shaft. She paid close attention to the area just beneath the crown, lawlessly flicking the joining of penis and foreskin with the tip of her tongue. When she returned his erection to her mouth, she sucked with renewed frenzy and rejoiced in the taste of him.
When Jagger’s breathing quickened and his fingers tightened in her hair, Cassandra knew he neared the point of no return. Although a part of her voraciously thirsted for his seed, another part of her—the one aching between her thighs—needed him so much more.
Reluctantly, she pulled her mouth from him and lapped at the head one final time. In a bid to gain space, she scooted the table toward the edge of the booth, then stood. Just as the band launched into a version of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s "Free Bird," Cassandra lifted her dress, baring her lower body. Turning her back to Jagger, she straddled his waist, then reached between her legs, where she snatched his beefy cock and guided it toward her dripping hole.
Within seconds, she found herself impaled by his slippery crown. One inch of his shaft, then another, then another filled her. It seemed a blissful eternity before her walls finally enclosed his entire length, down to the thick, pulsing root. She squirmed and gyrated her hips, the crown of his erection poking her at various angles.
Jagger clenched her waist with his strong hands and held her just above him. He thrust his rigid pole into her core, stabbing her at a demoniac tempo, matching the rhythm of the band. She squeezed her breasts, running the satiny dress fabric over her hard nipples and tossing back her head as he catapulted her toward absolute ecstasy.
But just as their combined grunts of pleasure increased and Cassandra felt the first stirrings of orgasm, the band finished their set. Immediately afterward, a deep voice filled the nightclub: "Last call."
Cassandra cursed her frustration.
Jagger lowered her onto his full hardness and whispered in her ear. "Fear not. We’ll go elsewhere and continue where we left off. I’m not even close to being through with you this evening." After grinding his crotch against Cassandra, his cock dancing insanely inside her core, he lifted and helped her to her feet.
By the time she lowered her dress and turned, he had confined his erection to the leather pants. Jagger took her hand and guided her from the booth to the door. They burst out of the club. To either side of the parking lot, moss-draped live oaks listed in the torrid breeze; insects chirped a monotonous chorus to the steamy night.
"You have a car, or shall I call a cab?" he asked.
"I have a car." She hastened toward her Mustang, dragging him behind her. "But where shall we go?"
"My motel is a few blocks from here."
Cassandra opened the passenger door for him, then dashed to the driver’s side. Blocks, she thought. She hoped she could make it that far without pulling off the road to fuck him silly on top of the Mustang’s hood. He had unlocked her door, so she slid into her seat and thrust her key into the ignition. "Where to?"
"The Sweet Haven Motel, right down—"
"I know it." Within seconds, she threw the car into gear and squealed out of the parking lot.
As she sped toward their destination, Jagger reached over and stroked her hair and cheek, his action adding weight to her foot on the gas pedal. When his hand lowered to her leg and he teased her inner thigh, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. She needed to calm down before she killed them both.
After what seemed an eternity, she pulled into the parking lot of a U-shaped cluster of buildings that had seen better days. She stopped before the door Jagger indicated and abandoned her vehicle.
Once they entered his room, Cassandra pounced on him, slamming him against the door. So obsessed with viewing his naked flesh, she barely heard his keys clank on the dresser where he flung them, or the click of the switch that turned on the hanging lamp in the corner, or the door chain being secured.
She tugged the shirt out of his pants and dragged it up and over his head, revealing a lean, muscular torso. A blanket of swirling hair covered his entire chest, tapered to a thin line, then plummeted down his flat belly to his waistband. Dark, quarter-sized nipples peeked out from beneath the crisp yet downy pelage and seemed designed for suckling.
Cassandra wrapped her lips around one nipple, flicking her tongue over the already hard nub, while her fingers squeezed and clawed at the steel-like hardness in his crotch. The man had not gone soft since leaving The Grotto, she thought with glee, and eagerly fondled the leather-bound erection. As she enjoyed her feast, her nostrils reveled in the scent of his masculinity and the slight saltiness of his developing perspiration.
After tasting Jagger’s entire chest, she licked lower, following the trail of hair to his navel. She sank to her knees and planted kisses along the ridges of his stomach, darted her tongue in and out of his belly button, a
nd continued toying with the cock practically begging for release.
No longer could she ignore its silent, desperate pleas.
After unfastening the single silver button at his waist, she used her teeth to yank down the zipper. With anxious hands, she dragged the leather pants down Jagger’s beefy thighs.
His manhood leapt up from its prison, bobbing in all its glory before Cassandra’s eyes. Now in the light, she could fully view its blood-engorged beauty. She ran her hands over every inch, tracing every throbbing vein with her fingertips, marveling at the way it twitched. When she slid back his tight foreskin, a drop of pre-come beaded at the crown’s tip, gathered mass, and starting sliding down the underside of the magnificent shaft, leaving behind a glistening trail. Unwilling to curb her desire, Cassandra captured the sweet droplet with her tongue. Jagger dug his fingers into her hair and groaned his satisfaction, which coerced her to continue.
She tongue-bathed him from root to tip, tasting him from every angle, then tickled his furry, low-hanging testicles with her lips. For several seconds, she playfully nipped at his inner thighs with her teeth, then drew one of his balls into her mouth and gingerly sucked. When Jagger’s sighs met her ear, cutting through the sputtering drone of the room’s seemingly worthless air-conditioner, she scooped the other ball into her mouth and repeated the process. All the while, she continued to stroke his shaft, now slick with her saliva and the generous amount of pre-come he continued to produce.
When his ball slipped from her mouth, she returned her full attention to his pulsing erection. Hungrier than she had ever been for the taste of a man, she wrapped her lips around the bulbous crown. Her tongue ran rampant as she drew more of his meat into her mouth, relishing every inch she managed to take. She clutched his buttocks, kneading the rigid mounds, and pulled him forward in a steady cadence.
Jagger grabbed the back of her head and thrust his hips forward, forcing her to relax her throat muscles as another inch entered her. When she opened her eyes, she noted with satisfaction that more than half of his nine inches had disappeared into her mouth and throat.
Suddenly, Jagger’s moans increased. Against her lips and tongue, Cassandra felt the pulse within his cock accentuate. Instead of stopping her fun like she had in the nightclub, she concentrated on the crown, sucking harder and harder until his warning gasp reached her ears. His cock spasmed, shooting wave after wave of hot, creamy seed into her mouth. She greedily gulped the sweet nectar as another blast filled her, then another. Finally, he began to taper off, but Cassandra continued to slurp on the quivering knob for several minutes, determined to drain this sexy man of every luscious drop.
She looked up, her gaze clawing over the furry expanse of Jagger’s heaving torso. She viewed the gratification on his handsome features. His deep, blue eyes conveyed the promise of sweet retaliation. He took her cheeks in his hand and withdrew his semi-erect penis from her mouth. Bending at the waist, he fumbled with his snakeskin boots, but because the leather pants clung to his knees, he made little headway. Cassandra helped him, freeing each foot from its boot and sock. Damn. Even his feet look like beautiful works of art.
After releasing his legs from the pants, Cassandra stood and studied Jagger’s nakedness from handsome head to perfect toe. What an exquisite animal of a man. He possessed the type of physique that had always sent heat to her loins, just like Robert and…
A chastising voice rose up within her. No, Robert is gone. Forget about Robert tonight.
Right, she decided. This evening, she would cast Robert from her thoughts. She would concentrate only on this muscular, hairy beast—a creature whom she sensed would totally abate the agony of forced celibacy.
With ungovernable wantonness, she snatched Jagger’s face in her hands and smothered him with esurient kisses. With her tongue crammed deep into his throat, she turned him from the door, then pushed him backward without warning. Mattress springs creaked a protest beneath his body as he landed on the bed, his feet dangling over the edge. He pushed himself up on one elbow. With his free hand, he swept locks of unruly hair off his forehead, and eyed her with ravenous lust.
After kicking off her shoes, Cassandra hastily slipped the straps of her dress over her shoulders. The satiny fabric slid down her naked flesh to puddle at her feet. She noted how Jagger’s erection returned full force, and wanted more than life itself to feel it pounding inside her.
Again, as if sensing her thoughts, that sexy yet dangerous sneer returned to his lips. He fisted his cock and began to stroke himself, the foreskin alternately masking and unmasking the blood-colored crown. "Play with your tits," he commanded in a harsh whisper.
With her index fingers pressing against her hard nipples, she cupped her breasts in her hands and massaged them, all the while watching his hand jacking his penis. As his rhythm increased, so did hers.
Cassandra stepped toward the bed. Jagger lifted one leg and wedged his foot between her thighs, his big toe brushing against her sensitive nub and invading her wet hole. She sank down on his wiggling digit, clutched her muscles around it for a few moments, and gasped her enjoyment. Releasing her breasts, she grabbed him by the ankle and lifted his foot to her mouth. She sucked his big toe, tasted her own juices, then moved up his muscular leg, nibbling her way toward his groin.
Still watching his hand flying over his erection, she again scooped his balls into her mouth one at a time, then together, and suckled him. Suddenly, his hand stopped moving and he pressed the base of his warm cock against her forehead. She licked a long path from the root to the tip, feeling the organ throbbing against her mouth. Once more, she wrapped her lips around the hard knob, relishing the sweet taste of his juices as she sucked him. But this time, she stopped herself from bringing him to completion.
After releasing him from her mouth, she scooted forward on the bed and straddled his waist. Jagger snatched her hips while she reached between her legs and guided his shaft to her aching heat. He thrust upward, impaling her with his entire length. She shrieked her ecstasy as the walls of her vagina contracted around his glorious cock.
Jagger grasped her buttocks and slammed into her at a delirious pace. His mouth feasted on one of her pointed nipples, then the other, then back again as she squirmed on top of him. Cassandra clawed at his hirsute chest, his pectoral muscles bulging beneath her fingertips. Deep-throated whimpers poured from her mouth, mingling with his husky grunts and the squeaking bed springs. How long Cassandra rode this bucking beast of a man she couldn’t fathom, but every time Jagger dove into her tingling wetness, ripples of passion made her convulse in what seemed a glorious eternity.
As Jagger propelled her to the pinnacle of heart-pounding climax, Cassandra flung back her head and uttered words of command, obscene words, words that had been part of her vocabulary only during torrid sexual encounters with Robert. She clutched her itching breasts, continuing to verbalize her most primal desires.
Without warning, Jagger stopped an upward jab, mid-thrust. His blue eyes turned to saucers of query and suddenly issued a steel-like coldness. Shocked back to reality by the abrupt pause in their lovemaking, and more than aggravated by the cessation of her burgeoning orgasm, Cassandra opened her mouth to voice her protests.
With the agility of a panther, Jagger flipped her onto her back, crashed down on her perspiring body, and slammed his ample staff deep into her heat. He ground his crotch against her, jabbed her several times in passionate possession, their perspiration-soaked pubic bushes clinging together like Velcro.
"My name is not Robert!" he practically shouted, his tone grave and throaty with warning. "Say my name, damn it! Say only my name! My name! My name…"
He pounded into her with renewed frenzy, making her clutch the bed sheets with trembling hands. Blood rose to her face—had she cried Robert’s name in her sexual delirium? She cursed herself for the hideous blunder, dug her fingernails into her lover’s back, and nearly wailed the name "Jagger," making it a mantra she repeated with each manic plunge he took
into her core. It seemed to please him, for his rhythm eventually quickened, and hastened her toward the very zenith of euphoria.
"Fuck me, Jagger, fuck me…harder…harder…Jagger…"
She grabbed one of his superb buttocks with one hand, then dug the fingers of her free hand into the grove of sweat-dampened hair on his head, pulling his heaving torso closer toward hers. Her gaze fastened on the silver pendant, dangling from a neck now bulging with each of his grunts. As she had on the dance floor, she scooped the pendant into her mouth and sucked on its head as she would have Jagger’s penis, had he presented it to her.
Something deep inside her ignited. A flood of exquisite warmth poured outward from her center, rushing into her torso and limbs, her fingertips, her toes. Her mind floated in a sea of molten lava, while howls of bestial satiation trumpeted from her throat.
As she drifted back to Earth, Cassandra felt Jagger slow his pace. She looked up to see one of his lopsided, knowing sneers. Before she could wrap her legs tighter around him and hold him inside her, he withdrew, lapped a trail down her torso with his heated lips, then encompassed her tingling nub with his mouth. His tongue plunged into her moistness, bestowing her with oral caresses. His fingers soon ventured in the exploration of her womanhood, enthusiastically joining the foray.
Before she knew what hit her, another shudder began at her waist and shot through her entire body. She clutched handfuls of Jagger’s hair and looked down between the valley of her breasts to find piercing blue eyes, drunk with desire, staring back at her, just as she had imagined earlier that evening.
Before Cassandra knew it, she lay face down on the mattress, buttocks raised, as Jagger’s mammoth cock invaded her from behind. For the next half hour, he twisted, turned, and molded her beneath him, conquering her in every conceivable position and expertly bringing her twice more to intense, eye-watering orgasm. Just as she glimpsed the first rays of sunlight poking through slits in the moth-eaten drapery, his attention to her body turned demonic. His erection seemed to expand inside her, and she finally felt the cream of his manhood exploding into her.
