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Mr. Calendar Chapter Eight - Revealed
Please note: (18+) This story includes adult content that may not be suitable for younger readers.》
"Stay just like that."
I chew the peach, swallowing it down just as I feel him wrap a hand around my wrist, pulling it from under my thigh. He turns my palm up and sets what I think is the fruit in my hand. When I feel a drip slowly making it's way down my fingers I know it is.
He leaves me like that for a moment and I hear the women calling out to him, a few male voices from deeper in the crowd giving him encouragement to show them his goodies. The music has changed slightly, but there is still that incessant tempo, and I have the crazy thought that whoever made this must have been working on a marathon level. Panted breaths merge with the little whimpers, getting more pronounced, and I shift in my seat.
I blink and the multicolored lights stop flickering to turn a deep red. A large shadowed shape moves infront of me and I'm lifted, the chair picked up and turned, and I gasp in surprise from the movement. The large shape moves to the floor, back and hips moving to the beat of the music and the women cheer and whistle in their enthusiasm.
As my eyes move down I spot a gap between my cheeks and the fabric. Kal, if that's even his real name, is on the floor infront me, his hips and back moving in a kind of push up pattern in time with the soft slaps just under the music. I can't see his face, just a portion of his bare back and one arm, but it's enough to give me the impression that's he's a pretty big guy.
The juices from the peach on my chin and cheeks is drying and tickles as much as it itches. I move my fingers, the soft fruit still in my hand, and I feel the stickiness between my fingers. A touch at my wrist brings the peach infront of me and I hear a few hoots and whistles as I peek down the blindfold.
"Let's have a taste, beautiful," his voice comes over the speakers and the crowd hums in approval.
He's on his knees, his free hand holding my wrist as I get a glimpse of a smooth well defined jaw and slightly full lips. He leans forward, the movement of the peach making me tighten my hand on it as I watch his sculpted lips part and wrap around the spot I'd bitten earlier. A delicious, but oh so vulgar, sucking noise emits through the room and I hear women groaning in pleasure as he does to the peach what I'm assuming he'd do downstairs.
I can't say I'm not affected. Between the sex happening over the speakers and him giving the crowd a show, I'm soaked, and so turned on it isn't a joke anymore. I lick my lips, my core throbbing as I imagine the things better suited to the past. A hand at my knee nudges them apart and he easily slips his waist between my legs. His hips are moving, I feel them gyrating between my lower legs as if he's thrusting into me, but my eyes are locked on his lips as he continues to slowly devour the fruit.
He's made a deep indentation and as he pulls back he snakes his tongue out, running it up the insides as if to lick up...
"Stay just like that."
I chew the peach, swallowing it down just as I feel him wrap a hand around my wrist, pulling it from under my thigh. He turns my palm up and sets what I think is the fruit in my hand. When I feel a drip slowly making it's way down my fingers I know it is.
He leaves me like that for a moment and I hear the women calling out to him, a few male voices from deeper in the crowd giving him encouragement to show them his goodies. The music has changed slightly, but there is still that incessant tempo, and I have the crazy thought that whoever made this must have been working on a marathon level. Panted breaths merge with the little whimpers, getting more pronounced, and I shift in my seat.
I blink and the multicolored lights stop flickering to turn a deep red. A large shadowed shape moves infront of me and I'm lifted, the chair picked up and turned, and I gasp in surprise from the movement. The large shape moves to the floor, back and hips moving to the beat of the music and the women cheer and whistle in their enthusiasm.
As my eyes move down I spot a gap between my cheeks and the fabric. Kal, if that's even his real name, is on the floor infront me, his hips and back moving in a kind of push up pattern in time with the soft slaps just under the music. I can't see his face, just a portion of his bare back and one arm, but it's enough to give me the impression that's he's a pretty big guy.
The juices from the peach on my chin and cheeks is drying and tickles as much as it itches. I move my fingers, the soft fruit still in my hand, and I feel the stickiness between my fingers. A touch at my wrist brings the peach infront of me and I hear a few hoots and whistles as I peek down the blindfold.
"Let's have a taste, beautiful," his voice comes over the speakers and the crowd hums in approval.
He's on his knees, his free hand holding my wrist as I get a glimpse of a smooth well defined jaw and slightly full lips. He leans forward, the movement of the peach making me tighten my hand on it as I watch his sculpted lips part and wrap around the spot I'd bitten earlier. A delicious, but oh so vulgar, sucking noise emits through the room and I hear women groaning in pleasure as he does to the peach what I'm assuming he'd do downstairs.
I can't say I'm not affected. Between the sex happening over the speakers and him giving the crowd a show, I'm soaked, and so turned on it isn't a joke anymore. I lick my lips, my core throbbing as I imagine the things better suited to the past. A hand at my knee nudges them apart and he easily slips his waist between my legs. His hips are moving, I feel them gyrating between my lower legs as if he's thrusting into me, but my eyes are locked on his lips as he continues to slowly devour the fruit.
He's made a deep indentation and as he pulls back he snakes his tongue out, running it up the insides as if to lick up...
