by Jason Luke
Clarissa swiveled her head, sweeping the surroundings. Shadows were moving, emerging from out of the line of trees. A dark figure materialized, and then another close beside it. Clarissa held her breath and panic rose like a hard lump into her throat. Her most perverse secret fantasy was on the verge of becoming reality.
“Two men are coming towards me,” she heard the fear and tension thick in her own voice. “They’re walking towards the car. I can hear their feet on the gravel.”
“Can you see them clearly?”
“Not yet.”
“How do you know they’re both men?”
“Because they walk like men,” Clarissa snapped irritably. It was a symptom of her anxiety.
The phone went silent and Clarissa fretted then about whether she had overstepped the mark, and if she would be punished. She felt suddenly sick at the prospect, and her nausea distracted her. She stared down at the phone for a long moment.
“I’m sorry, Master. Please forgive me for my tone. I’m just anxious.”
“That was your first and last chance,” Nick Edge warned. “Speak to me in that tone ever again, and I will punish you in a way that will be unforgettable.”
Clarissa nodded obediently with her gratitude and relief even though she knew Edge could not see her. She hoped that her appreciation of his leniency would be transmitted in her voice.
“Thank you, Master.”
Clarissa felt like she had been holding her breath. She leaned back in the seat and exhaled like she was exhausted. Then suddenly she saw a dark shape come to the side of the car, like a shark gliding up out of the murky depths.
Clarissa almost cried out in fright. It was a man, dressed in dark clothes. She couldn’t see his face because he was standing right beside her door. He didn’t say anything. She could see his shirt and the top of his jeans. She saw his belt buckle. Then he leaned down and peered at her through the half-opened window. He ran his eyes over her body, fixating his attention on her breasts, then lifted his gaze to her pretty face. He smiled.
He was a nice-looking young man with dark eyes and a pale, drawn face. He was unshaven, but not unkempt. He looked remarkably ordinary in every way.
And he looked sane.
Another man appeared close beside him. He bent at the waist and Clarissa felt his eyes on her, studying her profile. She was staring straight ahead, peering out through the windshield because she didn’t know what else to do. She was breathing in short shallow gasps, trying to stop her racing heart from tearing itself out through the cage of her ribs. Then she remembered the phone with a stab of guilt.
“Hello,” Clarissa said out the window, but loud enough for the sound of her voice to be picked up by the tiny microphone. Her voice sounded hoarse. The young man who had been first to the car stood up and Clarissa lost sight of his face. He had his hands on his belt buckle. He unfastened his jeans. His cock sprang hard from his pants.
Clarissa reached for the phone to place it in her lap, and realized with a shock of guilty disbelief that her nipples were painfully hard and there was a warm damp sensation between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, flexing the muscles. A tingle of sexual arousal swam up into the pit of her stomach.
“There are two men here, beside the car,” Clarissa forced herself to sound casual – like she was chatting to a girlfriend. “One of them has a nice hard cock. He’s showing it to me now.”
The second man frowned and looked back into the car. His expression was quizzical.
“Who are you talking to?” He had a Spanish accent.
Clarissa held up her phone innocently. “My friend.”
The man kept scowling but seemed to relax. He was rubbing his cock through the pocket of his jeans. She could see his hand moving through the denim. He was older than the man beside him, with a broad face, a dark sun-tanned complexion and black shaggy hair.
The younger man was slowly stroking himself. His cock was about six inches long; just as unremarkable as its owner.
“Do you want me to stroke your cock?” Clarissa said for the benefit of her Master.
“Yeah.”
She took him in the palm of her hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. The flesh was burning hot and she could feel it pulse with life. “You’re so hard,” Clarissa said. She felt like a failed porn actress, delivering cheesy lines. “Do you like the way my hand feels as it strokes you?”
The young man grunted, but said not a word.
“Do you want to feel my breasts?”
“Sure,” he said.
Clarissa unbuttoned the front of her blouse one-handed, and let the fabric gape wide open so that her breasts were exposed. It might sound daring – and dangerous – but the window was only half-down. After her initial instinctive terror had passed, she now felt confident that she was relatively safe, so long as she kept the door locked. Clarissa was uncomfortable; she felt vulnerable… but that was the point of the challenge, she realized. Her Master wanted to test her resolve. Clarissa was determined to pass… and to discover something about herself in the process.
She went back to focusing her attention on the stranger’s cock that she held in her hand. She was stroking him slowly, and he seemed to be swaying on the balls of his feet. His jeans were down around his thighs. Clarissa turned in her seat, settling on her knees so that she was facing the window. It was an awkward position. Within a few minutes she could feel her arm begin to ache.
“Tell me what you’re doing.” Nick Edge’s voice cut through the grunts and ragged breathing of the man at Clarissa’s window. She looked down at the phone. It was squashed under one knee. She shifted her weight.
“I’m stroking a cock,” she said aloud, like she was talking to herself. “It’s hard in my hand and getting harder.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“It’s certainly a new thrill for me,” Clarissa answered abstractly. She heard the young man plant the palms of his hands on the roof of the car like he was trying to hold himself upright. Her arm was numbing. She changed hands. The young man was rocking to the tempo of her beating strokes. Clarissa could tell he was close to cumming. She pressed her lips together with grim determination and then reached her free hand out of the window to gently cup his balls. She heard the young man moan softly. Then his body went rigid and he shuddered. A thick wad of his warm milky-white cum splashed against the window and trickled across Clarissa’s fingers. She kept stroking him, squeezing his cock to wring the last drops of juice from his balls. The young man let out a huge sigh of breath and then scuffled out of Clarissa’s reach. His cock slipped through her fingers and he melted away into the darkness.
“That was a lot of cum,” Clarissa said admiringly, both to the young man’s shadow, and for the benefit of Nick Edge. “You splashed it all over the window and my hand. I bet it tastes delicious.”
“Lick it up,” Edge’s voice on the phone insisted. “Tell me what the man’s cum tastes like.”
Obediently, Clarissa lifted her sticky hand to her lips and tentatively sucked the spilled seed from her fingers. “It tastes thick and salty,” she tried to make the description sound erotic.
“Good girl,” Edge praised Clarissa, and the small adulation of it gave her a thrill. “Now I want you to take care of the other man waiting. In fact, I want you to service every man who comes to your window for the next hour. After that you may go home, but you are to call me back when you return to your apartment. I will want to know all the details.”
“You don’t want to stay on the line?”
“No. I’ve heard enough. Call me when you get home.”
The phone went dead.
Clarissa felt strangely isolated for a moment. It gave her a tremor of pause.
Before she could dwell on her circumstance, the Spanish-looking guy took the young man’s place, and reached a hand through the window to fondle her hanging breasts. His fingers were warm. He tugged down the lace cup of Clarissa’s bra and gently squeezed her nipple between his
fingers. Clarissa gasped. The thrill of being fondled by a stranger was undeniably arousing. She stayed kneeling on the seat of the car, and felt her legs shuffle open a few inches. She had her eyes closed. The man’s hand slid up and over her throat. Then he pressed a finger softly against Clarissa’s bottom lip. She reacted instinctively, just as she had with Edge the night before. She sucked his finger into her mouth like it was a cock, and swabbed it passionately with her swirling tongue.
“Suck me,” the Spanish man insisted.
Clarissa’s eyes came open, misted and dreamy. The man was standing with his body pressed against the door. His cock was sliding up over the window glass. She leaned towards it and opened her mouth. The man must have been standing on tip-toes. Clarissa took the swollen head of his shaft between her lips and held it there for just a second. The mechanics just didn’t work. The man was too short. If Clarissa wanted his cock in her mouth, the window would have to come all the way down.
She hesitated for just a moment. In her mind she could hear the echo of Edge’s voice, encouraging her to boldness, and chiding her for a life without the thrill of adventure. She thumbed the electric switch at her elbow and the driver’s side window glided soundlessly down. The man’s cock was hard. He put his hand on the sill of the car door. Clarissa was kneeling on the seat. She leaned forward and trapped his shaft between her lips.
Clarissa’s head was just a little out the window. The man gently stroked his fingers through her hair. His cock was about five inches long; not enough to fully fill her mouth, and much shorter and thinner than Edge’s cock. She sucked the man across her tongue and felt the sudden tang of his pre-cum. He was already close to orgasm. He had brought himself to the brink while he was touching himself though his pants pocket, waiting for Clarissa to finish the young guy off. She swallowed the full length of him in a single gulp and heard him hiss and groan.
The Spanish man spilled a warm load of cum into Clarissa’s mouth, still tenderly holding his hand to her head. She kept herself as still as possible and felt the length of him pulse against the flat of her tongue. His cum was warm. It trickled down the back of her throat.
When he began to soften at last, Clarissa drew her mouth away and licked her lips. The man was breathing deeply to re-fill his lungs. He had a goofy smile on his face. Clarissa smiled back. Her lips were glossy, still tingling from the gentle friction of his warm cock. She blew him a slutty little kiss, and he waved his hand in a kind of salute. Then he disappeared back into the shadows from where he had come.
Clarissa was no longer nervous. Her first two encounters had given her confidence. These men didn’t seem to be creeps. They were strangely respectful; appreciative. Both the men she had given relief to had been polite and courteous.
For Clarissa it had been a gratifying and enlightening experience. She could feel herself humming with the sexual energy that had exhausted her just the day before. It was in the hardening of her nipples, the racing excited beat of her pulse… and the seeping wetness that she could feel in the crotch of her panties.
Clarissa stayed on her hands and knees and waited. Within a few minutes there were more men around the car. One was on the passenger side, looking at her ass through the closed window. Clarissa saw him over her shoulder. He had a pale unshaven face. He looked to be aged in his forties. Clarissa hitched up the hem of her dress and let him see her ass. She was wearing a G-string. She shuffled her knees apart an inch and reached back between her legs to rub her pussy. She was wet.
The other three guys hovered around the car, but stayed on the periphery for several minutes. Finally one of them stepped forward and that seemed to break their spell of uncertainty. They were just a blur of faces and cocks. Clarissa took them one at a time, stroking them to orgasm. The first guy shot a stream of cum that splashed against her breasts. The second guy groaned as he was orgasming. He came across Clarissa’s hand and some of his sperm dribbled down the inside of the door. Her arm was aching, and her back began to stiffen. She could feel herself fatiguing quickly. There was still one man waiting with his cock in his hand, slowly stroking himself, and the guy on the passenger side of the car who had his gaze fixed on her ass. Clarissa beckoned the man who was stroking himself to come to the window. He shuffled up to the door. His pants were all the way down around his knees. He had a long hard cock and his balls were covered in a light fuzz of hair. They hung heavily between his legs. Clarissa caressed them with her fingers and felt his body clench.
“When was the last time you shot a load of cum?” she asked the man boldly. She couldn’t see the stranger’s face, but his voice sounded mature.
“Couple of weeks,” he grunted.
Clarissa began to stroke him slowly. The pain in her arm made it feel like it was filled with lead. The man was twitching. His cock flinched. She gripped the sill of the car door and leaned forward to take him in her mouth. Her arm felt suddenly numb.
The man’s cock was thicker than the others. Clarissa felt her mouth stretching to accommodate him. He scuffed his feet in the dirt and Clarissa could smell raw earth and the dense dampness of the surrounding forest. His cock tasted salty. He put his big brawny hands on her shoulders and then bucked his hips. His cock pushed itself across Clarissa’s tongue and against the back of her throat. She made a snuffling sound and saliva drooled from the corner of her mouth and down the car door. Then man thrust again and Clarissa inhaled the vaguely sweaty scent of his body. He was incredibly hard, the shaft thickly ridged with veins. She closed her eyes and tried to surrender herself to the moment, just as Edge had instructed her.
The man began to slowly fuck Clarissa’s mouth with his cock.
She was totally pliant; just a wet mouth for this stranger to use, and – remarkably – she found the moment uniquely empowering.
When he finally tensed and then groaned in orgasm, Clarissa felt her own body melting and uplifted like she had performed some act of sanctity, and in doing so she had satisfied – not only his physical need – but a deep yearning need that bloomed in her own disturbed soul.
The man stepped back from the car door and Clarissa pressed her lips together to hold his cum in her mouth, savoring the fresh and unique taste of the stranger. She closed her eyes. His seed had an almost sweet taste. Clarissa held it on her tongue like it was cake frosting, and then finally swallowed. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone. The man had disappeared, and so had the stranger who had been watching her from the other side of the car. He had left without ever approaching her for sex. Clarissa frowned at that.
There seemed no others waiting on the fringes of the woods and Clarissa sensed that she had been at the lookout for more than the hour required. She straightened her clothes and ran a speculative hand between her legs. As she had expected, she was dripping wet. Her panties were sodden with her own excitement. Just the touch of her fingers brought a shock of tingles.
Clarissa settled herself behind the wheel and thumbed the switch to close the window. She started the car and when she turned on the headlights to drive away she saw the woman in the SUV from the corner of her eye. The vehicle’s door was wide open, and the woman was squatting down beside the door with her knees wide apart. There were two men standing either side of her. Her exposed breasts glowed pale under the glare of the headlights. The woman had one man in her hand, stroking his cock while she sucked the other stranger into her mouth.
Clarissa drove slowly along the winding track, back towards the main road. Pebbles popped and slid beneath the rubber of the tires. When she reached the blacktop and turned onto the road that would carry her back to the city, she let out a long satisfied sigh. She felt sexually frustrated, but spiritually gratified. It was a strange sensation; almost religious. She felt as if she had served a greater god, and that god had two names – Master and desire.
Clarissa couldn’t recall the details of the drive back to her apartment. Her mind was swirling with remembered moments from the lookout. She replayed those scenes over in her mind, d
welling on the men who had cum in her mouth, and trying to hold onto the feelings that had been evoked by her submissive willingness.
When she got back to the city, Clarissa parked the car and ran up the flights of steps to her tiny apartment. She was calling Nick Edge’s number even before she was inside the door.
“Hello? Master. It’s me.”
“I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“I just walked in the door.” As Clarissa spoke she let her handbag slide off her shoulder and fall onto the bed. Then she drifted into the bathroom. Clarissa stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was tousled and her lipstick was smudged. Her lips were puffy, and there was dry cum on her chin. She left it there, and tried to see herself as a stranger might. She looked like a woman who had been freshly fucked by her lover.
“Did you enjoy yourself at the lookout?”
“Yes,” Clarissa confessed in a whisper, as though to admit it aloud was the final step in her arrival into the lifestyle. “I did.”
“Good,” Edge’s voice sounded a little strained. “And how many men did you end up pleasuring?”
“Five,” Clarissa had to think back before answering. “Two of the men came in my mouth, and I stroked three others off with my hands. There was another man at the car, but he didn’t seem to want me to pleasure him. He just watched from the passenger side through the window.”
There was a long moment of silence before Edge spoke again. In the empty space Clarissa tried to imagine the expression on his face.
“How do you feel?”
“Frustrated.”
“Because you didn’t cum?”
“Yes. Because pleasing those men made me horny.”
“Do you want to cum, Clarissa?”
“God, yes, Master!” she answered passionately.
Edge laughed. It was a dry sound. Not cruel. Just amused by her need to orgasm. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for that pleasure,” the man’s voice softened. “Because first I need you to answer three questions for me.”
