Dani in the City Pt. 03

"Bianca. And I'm Portuguese," Bianca says. I look over from the bar and see she has a hand on one hip, striking a defiant pose. I guess she let the Mexican jibe get to her.

I frown. She's already playing into his hands. Under better circumstances I would have prepared her for this. But here we are.

"Feisty. I like it." Rav licks his lips and puffs smoke at Bianca. "Hey, mermaid. What was that other girl's name?"

"Rhiannon," I say, prying the top off a bottle of Miller. I can't understand why rich people drink such shitty beer.

"Yeah, that's it. Rhiannon. That bitch can take a cock, I'm telling you." Rav licks his lips and beckons at Bianca to come closer. Dutifully, she walks over and stands in front of the recliner. Without sitting up, Rav pokes out a foot and jams it into the gap between her legs. His toenails are thick and yellow-looking. Bianca shuffles her feet apart to accommodate him, and Rav slides his slab-like foot up the inside of her thighs, poking his hairy toes under the hem of her white dress. "What about Bianca? Do you like a good dick? You're the size of a doll. I don't even know where you'd put it. Split you in half, I would."

I arrive at Rav's chair and pass him the ice-cold beer, but he ignores it. He wears too much cologne. His skin is oily and sweat clings along an uneven hairline that looks as though he has had some kind of hair transplant.

Rav's foot moves under Bianca's tight dress, stretching the sheer white fabric into grotesque shapes, prodding rudely at her crotch. Bianca weighs maybe a hundred pounds and she staggers and sways to keep her footing, her composure lost. She catches my eye for a split second then looks away, a blush burning across her cheeks.

Rav snatches the beer from me and drains most of it in one. Tiring of the torment, he slides his foot out from between Bianca's legs and levers himself out of the recliner. He lets out a deep belch, pushes the half-empty bottle back into my hands, and gets his mouth right up against my ear.

"You can have that, and get the doll a drink too. If she's old enough." The smoke from his cigar rises into my face, stinging my eyes. His breath smells like he's been drinking for hours. "I'm going to take a shit, make a call, and do a few lines of blow. When I get out, I'd like you to be on that couch with your legs in the air — oh, I'm sorry mermaid, I should have said with your flippers in the air." He nods toward Bianca. "And she will be eating out your pussy."

Rav picks up the remote and clicks the music back on before striding through the door, closing it behind him.

"Such a fucking jerk," I say, keeping my voice low, although there's little chance Rav could hear us over the booming music.

"He's just a guy. No big deal," Bianca shrugs.

I give her a doubtful look. She has a distant, aloof air about her, lips drawn tight in a steely non-expression. I wonder if it's forced, like she's trying to prove a point to me. Or maybe this is just her working persona? I've never seen her with a client before.

I kick off my shoes, drop my bag under the coffee table, and walk over to the bar. I empty Rav's beer into the sink behind the bar, fetch a couple of glasses from the rack, then pour a good slug of Ketel One for myself and gulp it down.

"You want a drink then?" I shout over the music, fishing around in the fridge.

"I'm fine." Bianca ties her crimped hair back into a voluminous ponytail that fans out like a dirty-blond pom pom. "I don't need one."

Need? The way she said that bothers me for some reason. I look at my empty glass then set it down. "Suit yourself." I take a bottle of water from the fridge, swish a mouthful, and spit into the sink.

With her back to me, Bianca is struggling to unzip her white mini dress, but I sense she wouldn't accept my help if I offered it, so I leave her to it. I undress and place the little red dress together with my shoes in a neat pile by the couch, then I slip off my underwear and bra and stuff them into my overnight bag, out of which I take a small packet of wipes and some lube. Glancing around quickly, I squat behind the recliner, squeeze a blob of gel onto my finger, and smear it around my pussy, pushing some inside. I stash the wipes and lube discretely on the side-table.

When I look up, Bianca stands there with her back to me, dress around her ankles, naked but for a pale gray V-string thong that vanishes between her creamy-brown butt cheeks. The light catches fine hairs in the concave small of her back; a single black mole dots the side of one thigh.

The muted sound of Rav's raised voice emanates through the room. He's yelling and cursing at someone. Something heavy thuds off a wall in there and there's a string of audible curses. We stare at the door. Bianca crosses her arms over her naked breasts.

After a few more outbursts, Rav's voice steadily ratchets down and soon we cannot hear him over the music at all.

"We should get ready. Like, he'll be out soon," Bianca says, voice quavering a little. "Tell me when you're set up."

The cool leather creaks and sticks to my skin as I position myself lengthways on the couch, my butt hanging over the edge. Pitching my head back, I clamp my forearms behind my thighs and raise my feet skyward, knees to shoulders, legs open enough that the air-conditioning registers a chill in my parted, lube-moistened lips.

Usually comfortable in my own body, I feel oddly exposed in the uneasy atmosphere of Rav's suite, like I'm submitting to a medical exam — it's distinctly unsexy. "I guess I'm ready."

Bianca moves into position, her downy pony-tail tickling the inside of my ankles. The couch yields as she rests her hands on the back of my inverted thighs, breath falling against my sex.

We wait like that for a few ridiculous minutes, not talking, while misogynistic rap vocals spew out of the speakers.

"That's what I'm talking about, you filthy bitches." A gregarious roar announces the return of Rav. I startle as Bianca's hot mouth drops onto my pussy, her sharp little tongue nudging under the folds of my clit hood with an urgency I'm not yet ready for and it feels sensitive and sharp. Rav looms into view at my side with a towel around his waist, broad torso exposed, vague black tattoos running up both arms and across his densely hairy chest.

"Don't mind me, ladies. You carry on." His phone clangs onto the coffee table.

Bianca tongues the length of my cunt from bottom to top, pausing over my clit and sucking my labia into her mouth. Feeling a sudden pang of desire to know what she looks like going down on me, I lift my head and see her small nose pressed into my pubic hair, forehead bobbing lightly beneath her scraped-back hair. She looks good down there.

I let the leg closest to Rav fall open wider, giving him a better view. Bianca responds to my cue, tilting her head to the side to show her tongue gliding up and down over the length of my pussy lips, one wide eye fixed on Rav who has begun to wring his dick through the towel. Bianca opens my pussy with her fingers and pokes her tongue in there, moaning a little for effect.

She's good at this. Maybe she's right — maybe I was being over-protective before.

"Look at her go after that pussy. They love their tacos, don't they?" Rav gives me a leering wink as he unfurls the towel and lets it drop. His circumcised cock is half-erect, standing away from his body but curving downwards; it's kind of cigar-shaped — not particularly long, but very thick around the midpoint of the shaft, tapering at the end in a way that reminds me of a snake's head. Rav grips his ugly dick, overhand, tugging down like he's milking himself. "Don't let her get too full."

Feigning a sub-orgasmic moan, I pretend to be lost in pleasure, using it as an excuse to close my eyes — anything to block him out, with all his unpleasant, boring needling. I try to focus on the sensations between my legs, urging some kind of genuine erotic response to ease me through what's to come. But the bare, emotionless mechanics of tongue-on-cunt aren't sufficient. I need an image, an idea — something to excite my thoughts as well as my body.

Under the darkness of my eyelids, my subconscious revives a pleasing picture: Bianca's dark, bee-stung lips making out with my pussy. The white tips of her French-polished nails scratching at my upturned thighs. Those big eyes catching mine while she nibbles and sucks at my cunt lips.

Hmm, yes.

Yes this is something.

I latch onto this fragment, embrace it, surrendering to my imagination as it weaves a richer apparition.

From a different viewpoint this time, I see Bianca's little tits, more nipple than breast, rubbing stiffly against the creased white leather — she traces a finger across both puffy areolae, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind. My mind's eye follows the contours from the nape of her neck down the smooth skin of her back, gliding over the rolling terrain of her buttocks. The camera rotates, showing Bianca from behind, her petite body knelt as though in prayer between my wide-open legs where she feeds at my crotch.

And what does her ass look like? It is clenching tight like a fist over her twitching hand, which is jammed inside the glistening lace of her thong; it is thrust out and splayed open, her puckered slit swollen with blood beneath her knotted anus; it is slapped-red, branded with my handprints, sopping cunt lips dripping and quivering around her opened hole.

It is all these things at once, as pangs of arousal uncoil inside me, melding with the churning wetness at my cunt.

I moan, this time for real.

Then the couch sags under the great weight of Rav's knees planted either side of my head and I open my eyes to see his balls descending towards my face. My newfound horniness has tempered my distaste and I open my mouth and eagerly slurp one inside, sucking gently. Earthy odors fill my nose — clean, but cloyingly manly. My tongue probes where the balls join his perineum, slithering over the cable-like cock root buried there. Then I latch onto the other ball, sucking harder this time, the weird alien hairs on his scrotum tickling the roof of my mouth. The smell of my saliva drying on his skin mingles with his fragrance.

Above me, Rav's fist works at his bloated cock shaft, but it is still far from fully erect. I bring a hand from behind my knee and tug his tip toward my lips. Rav bats my hand away and tilts forward, bracing himself on the backrest of the couch, and slides his half-flaccid dick into my mouth. He clumsily humps my face, balls flopping against my forehead, dick bending as it mashes against my closed throat.

The pressure of Bianca's tonguing abruptly increases, and her whole mouth starts to grind up and down, catching me with teeth, making me wince. I can't be sure, because my head is forced back to accommodate his cock, but I guess Rav is gripping Bianca by the hair and frigging me with her face.

"Get some fingers in her." She pushes two inside me slowly, twisting and stirring in there. I imagine Bianca sucking my taste from her dainty fingers; I picture her fingering herself and feeding her taste to me. My cunt floods over her knuckles.

Blood is pumping into Rav's dick and it stiffens up, notch by notch. He pulls out, slaps it against my lips a few times, then shoves it back in.

"Go on, get some more in there. She can handle it." I feel the brief scratch of a nail, then an uncomfortable stretching sensation as, I think, a third and fourth finger are pushed inside me. "Don't stop eating. You're not done yet." Bianca's closed lips smear over my clit with force again — more of Rav's artless manipulations, rougher than I'd like but still getting me off a little.

Her fingers fuck me, mercifully not too deep, carefully angled to avoid tearing me with those damn nails. I hope Rav's done with the fingers. I don't think I could stand a hand shoved into me on top of the battering my clit is suffering.

No longer bending with each thrust, Rav's cock is plunging into my mouth now. Breathing is becoming difficult. Each thrust expels a desperate little gasp from my throat with an embarrassing hiccuping sound.

Bianca's mouth is yanked away from my abused vulva. "Oh fuck, look at that mess. Look at that gash. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I want some of that."

Rav's cock slides out, trailing spit up my face. I turn my head and heave drool onto the white leather. Rav knocks Bianca aside and hauls me to the edge of the couch. I catch sight of Bianca as she sits down heavily on the floor. The skin around her mouth is red, like the color bled out of her lips.

Then my head jerks back as powerful hands pin my knees to my chest and he mounts me, sliding straight in to the hilt.

"Unnnhhh," I groan, hoarse and low. He went in rough and it hurts. My body pleads for a moment to adapt, but he's already fucking me, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Pain lingers for the first ten strokes or so then subsides to a background soreness.

Rav breathes heavily, hissing and blowing, gritting his teeth and pursing his lips in a silent "ooh." Droplets of sweat spatter my chest and the backs of my thighs. His sweat smells of cigars.

"Get over here, cock-sucker," he barks. Bianca shuffles on her knees to a spot by Rav's side. He bends her head down over my belly, mouth above my cunt. "Stay there, fuck doll."

Rav stops pounding me and sinks his cock in deep. "Let me get some more of this good pussy juice for you." He withdraws slowly, tensing his dick, which twangs upwards as it slips out, waving under Bianca's nose.

Without missing a beat, Bianca sinks her mouth over it, sucking lustily.

"Oh she good, she good." Rav starts pumping his hips, driving his cock upward into her mouth, hand locked around the ponytail. Bianca takes it. Her mouth stretches just wide enough to fit a third of a way down his fat shaft. The sight of his ugly cock fucking her young face gives me a weird feeling, like dark butterflies in my stomach, like fever chills.

"Let me get you some more."

He goes back into my pussy — ten strokes or so — then back into her mouth. He does this over and over again, slowly, with a look of dumb fascination on his face, until the spell breaks and he pulls away. Bianca's reddened mouth hangs open, connected to my open cunt below by a clear thread of spit. Her mascara is smudged, graying her eyelids and accentuating the whites of her eyes. The air is heavy with my smell.

Rav lifts his weight off me and slaps my thigh. "Flip yourself over mermaid, it's time to play the B-side. You too doll." He wipes his hands on the couch then walks off somewhere.

Bianca steps out of her thong and kneels on the couch, bending forward with her forearms over the headrest, butt raised. I slide alongside her in a similar position. We rest our heads sideways on our arms, facing each other. Bianca's eyes are closed. Her breath smells of me. One side of her buttocks nudges against my long thigh.

Rav returns. "Oh my fucking goodness, what a sight that is. I must have been a very good boy in a past life." Over my shoulder I see him spooning cocaine from a large sugar bowl onto the curve of Bianca's ass. Everything he does is such a cringeworthy cliché. Bianca's eyes pop open as Rav snorts the coke off her body; I think I see a flash of uncertainty in her glance, but she stifles it. "Hmmmm, right off my butt, baby," she says, with the exaggerated, honeyed tones of a porn performer. Her act is pitch-perfect, I must admit. He digs a finger in the cocaine bowl and shoves it toward us. I shake my head; so does Bianca.

"Fine then," Rav says. He rubs his powdered finger vigorously under his lips, and his softening dick jiggles in front of his thighs. He catches me looking at it and a flash of irritation crosses his face. In a clumsy haste to put it down, he clatters the sugar bowl on top of his phone on the coffee table, spilling a good tablespoon of coke across the glassy surface.

"Fuck's sake."

Then he's behind me, hand squeezed around the base of his failing erection. I take satisfaction in clenching my muscles to make it harder for him to get it in. After some effort, his plump, squidgy meat greases its way inside me.

Bianca begins panting and writhing. I peer over my left shoulder to see Rav is reaching across and his spade-like hand is sliding up and down between her butt cheeks. His forearm is the width of her thigh, matted with hair and ink-blackened, brutish in contrast with Bianca's delicate frame and smooth skin. I wonder what his thick fingers look like sliding in and out of her neat little pussy. The thought of it brings a warm throb to my cunt around his plunging cock.

Now there's a wetness spattering on my buttocks, running down the crack of my ass. Rav's spit, it must be. Another wet glob lands squarely on my anus. A thumb begins circling the wrinkled flesh around my hole. He stops thrusting his cock and with his fingers pressed flat over the base of my spine, begins to dig his spit-slicked thumb into my butthole.

I take a breath, relax my torso, and bear down slightly. There's a sensation of pressure, a sharp pinch, then a hot soreness as he forces the thumb inside my anus. "Ooooh," I cry out, and bite my bottom lip. He didn't get enough spit on it and I can feel the ridges of his thumbprint, the edges of his nail, as he reams into my back passage.

Rav seems not to notice my discomfort. He's staring at his other hand, which is slamming into Bianca's crotch hard enough to set her whole body shaking. With every fast breath she makes an "uhh" sound that goes up in pitch at the end like it's a question.

Rav's thumb probes all the way into my anal canal, clawing upwards towards his fingers like he's trying to squeeze my tailbone. My pussy feels stuffed full as he stirs his thumb around in my ass, rubbing against his cock through my thin membranes, stretching the circumference of my hole in widening circles. A shiver dances over my ribs.

"I wanna fuck some ass."

His thumb abruptly plops out of my butt, stinging as it exits. "Ah, fuck. Go easy, yeah?" I say, annoyed. I check myself again — mustn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me. "There's lube on the table, baby. Let's do this right, OK?"

"Chill out, babe," Rav says, his cock dropping from my pussy. He brings his hand away from Bianca's cunt and runs the two middle fingers under his nose and sniffs, letting out an exaggerated "ahhh" as he exhales. Is that white hair in his goatee, or cocaine? I wonder. Rav fetches the lube from the side table.

I drop my head onto my forearms, bend a little more at the knees, and poke out my ass. Anal is much more comfortable if the angle is right. I sink my belly low and urge my butthole to relax, to dilate just a touch, then brace myself for the cold shock of lube.

But it doesn't come.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah." Bianca shudders then hisses in a sharp inhalation. I snap my head around, adrenaline prickling.

What? No. This isn't right.

Rav is pouring a thin stream of the crystal-clear gel onto the dimple between her sit bones; his other hand massages the lube between her buttocks, too high to be at her cunt.

Why doesn't Bianca say something? She doesn't do anal stuff — I've seen her agency profile, her list. She even said so just the other week before Charles' party. And Rav should know that too — Antonia always shares a girl's list with the client before she takes a booking. But Rav's intentions are clear, and Bianca's just letting it happen.

"Keep this warm, mermaid." On autopilot, I slip from the couch onto my knees and take him into my mouth.

Why doesn't she stop this? I shouldn't care. It's her body. But for some reason, I do care.

"So what about it, doll. We can work out some kind of bonus." From this angle I can see his slimy fingers probing in her butt crack, lube dribbling down over her cunt and gathering in the heart-shaped patch of pubic hair. "Your fucking ass looks so good, doll. I gotta have it, I just gotta."