Just Curious Ch. 09

More grumbling and shifting around, one of his powerful legs stretches itself straight. "Marcus?"

"Wha? Go seep." He's not fully awake yet.

"Marcus, I need to use the bathroom. Would you let me go, please?"

More grumbling, but he does untangle himself from me. "Come right back."

"Yes Marcus." I hop off the warm soft bed and scurry to use the bathroom. I brush my teeth and wash my face before climbing back into the bed. Marcus instantly wraps himself around me, tucking me in tight against his body. About ten seconds later his watch starts beeping and Marcus starts swearing as he tries to silence it. I try not to giggle. A long groan comes from behind me, then an equally long stretch. He rolls onto his back and I sit up, stretching my arms above my head before flopping back down. "Can't we just stay here?"

A huge mischievous grin grows on his handsome face. "Now that would be very entertaining, but there's something I want you to see tonight. But first dinner and some dancing."

"oooohhh. I love dinner. It's one of my three most favorite meals in a day." My hands clapping with fake enthusiasm.

"Brat." He tries to swat me on my nose, but I was ready for him and dodge it. He grabs for me and we wrestle until we crash to the floor laughing. He tells me to kneel as he untangles himself from the blankets and stands next to me. He stretches again before running his cock over my face. "Service me."

I am more familiar with him now, so I know what he likes. It doesn't take me long before his hot cum is filling my mouth and his praise is filling my heart. He sends me to the shower. As expected there's another dress on the bed when I get out. It's a two-piece with soft purple/blue swirled material. The top looks like two triangles sewn together. Three spaghetti straps on each shoulder hold the top up, while the points of the triangle travel down my sides, leaving my lower back and stomach exposed. The dress has a simple elastic band. The right side ends around mid-thigh, while the left side grazes my knee.

Marcus comes in to check on me. He's wearing black jeans and a dark blue shirt emphasizing his muscles. I spin for him. "Very beautiful. Are you ready to go?" He takes out his camera and clicks a few pictures.

"May I please check my phone first?" He nods and leads me to his bedroom. I start removing my dress, but he stops me. I unplug my phone from the charger and he calls me over. He has me straddle him. His hands travel up my stomach and play with my breasts as I check my emails and texts. I notice its Wednesday and it's almost 7PM. I didn't even know what day it was. I make one call to my parents and thankfully I get the answering machine. I tell them I'm fine and having a great time as my hips start rocking back and forth on Marcus's lap.

"I'm done. Thank you Marcus."

"Go plug it back in and we'll go get dinner." Unbidden, I kiss him. I think it was intended as a quick peck, but it turned into something longer and more intimate. He growls when we break apart. "You make it hard to leave, my little minx. Up. Now." We both stand and he readjusts his pants, then we head down to the garage and out into the early evening lights of Vegas.

We drive away from the bright gaudy lights of the strip and into a more 'local' section of town; quiet streets, basic lighting, and regular homes and businesses. Marcus points out a long brick building with two smokestacks chugging out white puffy smoke. The smell of grilled meat is prominent from a block away. On the front of the building, spelled out in huge silver letters is 'PALEO'. There are about two dozen people waiting in line outside. Marcus parks in the lot next to it and we walk toward the restaurant. I go to stand in line, but he guides me past them and around the side of the building. He starts banging on the side door until a tiny, grumpy looking Asian man opens it. I try not to laugh as his neck cranes to look up at Marcus. It takes a second for him to recognize Marcus, then he becomes all smiles.

"Sir, welcome. Just the two of you tonight? I will have Jenny get you a seat right away. Come in. Come in." Marcus leads me through the kitchen and the man starts calling out in a coded language I don't fully understand. "Jenny. Two" And he waves his hand, palm forward, up and down. "Milo. Courtnee. Buckets. Scott. Red. Juan. White. Now now now." People start scurrying around and a young woman dressed all in black, I'm assuming this is Jenny, leads us out of the kitchen and into a large darkened room with high ceiling. I see two huge separate fire pits along one wall. Two men at each fire pit are focused on grilling. Jenny sits us at a bar height wooden table with two plain wooden stools. The table is shined to a high gloss, but only about a foot and a half or two feet wide, but twice that in length. There's a light from the ceiling pointing directly on the tabletop, but doesn't cast much light on anything else. The table is slanted down toward the center, with a small channel running down the middle. Weird, I notice there's a hole in the end of our table. I look down to see only darkness, but then I glance to the table next to us, and there's a bucket hanging from below that table.

I hear the click of the camera. I catch Marcus smiling at me. "What?"

"I love watching you when you're curiosity is peaked. I'm surprised you didn't sniff something."

I'm about to respond when Jenny comes back and asks for our order. Marcus orders us two beers. Then he orders the 'sea critter' plate, spicy mushrooms, pineapples, and a 9 oz. peppered T-Bone, medium-rare. The waitress enters the order and says she'll put the order in right away, then turns and leaves.

The beers come almost immediately. A man is walking around the room with a large piece of meat on a skewer. "Elk?" Marcus declines. A few minutes later another woman comes around. "Pork?"

Marcus seems excited now. "Yes please." The woman takes a knife and cuts a slice of pork off the skewer and plops it onto the table top. Ummm... where are the plates? Utensils? I watch as Marcus scoops up the meat in his fingers, folds it and takes a big bite, juice is dripping off his chin. The table isn't very wide, and he easily reaches over, offering me some of the plate-less, utensil-less, meat. I stare at him for a second before I lean in a take a bite. OMG! It's juicy, garlicky and I think there's some kind of nut making up the crust. We both laugh as we wipe juice off our chins.

"No plates? Or utensils?" I just have to ask.

"Nope. That wouldn't be very caveman-ish." He's grinning at me like a kid.

"So what exactly is a sea critter? Or don't I want to know?"

"I can't tell you that. It'd ruin the surprise." Another waitress comes around with skewers of shrimp. Marcus accepts and she slides the shrimp off the metal skewer and onto our table. We feed each other shrimp. Marcus offers me his fingers and I suck them clean. We're both laughing as the 'critters' arrive. They come as they get done from the grill. First is bacon wrapped scallops, then crab legs, then oysters, then a full lobster, and last is crayfish. All of them dropped right onto the tabletop. The grilled mushrooms and pineapple come in a lettuce bowls, lastly the T-Bone is dropped in front of Marcus. He claps his hands and rubs them together for dramatic effect. I roll my eyes. He's like a little kid sometimes.

We stuff ourselves. Marcus ends up feeding me most of the food. Butter and juices are running down both our arms, but in this restaurant, that's expected. I try to get my garbage into the hole, but Marcus just tosses his into the middle of the table. When it gets too big, he swipes his hand and all the shells and casings are swept into the bucket. I watch as he picks up the T-Bone and takes his first bite, ripping the meat off. He offers me the steak. After looking at it, I take it gently between four finger tips and take a big bite. It's grilled to perfection. The pepper gives it a slightly spicy, tangy flavor. Everything is so good.

The chef/owner comes over and talks to us for a while, asking if everything was OK and if we needed anything. I can't help gushing about the food. It's basic, primal, but done in a way that makes it seem elaborate. He hands us two moist hand towels, and excuses himself back to the grills. I sniff the towel, its lemon scented. I glance up to see Marcus laughing at me.

"Yeah. OK. I sniffed it. Happy?" He can't stop laughing. "Do you own this place?"

"Sort of. I'm one of three investors. Alban had the dream and the experience to pull this off; I just gave him some of the money to achieve it." Marcus tosses his used towel on the table and gets up to leave. I toss mine down, and let him help me up. We've been sitting on hard, backless stools for almost two hours. I rub my butt to get some circulation going.

Marcus wraps his arm around me and squeezes. "Uugh. I ate too much. I think I'm going to explode."

He laughs. "Excellent. I have just the thing planned to work off all those extra calories. Are you ready for dancing?"

Uugh. I don't think I can move, much less dance. And I never liked those raves. Too many people. Too many drugs. I hope that's not where he's taking me. We head out to the parking lot. The line out front is longer than before; worth the wait in my opinion.

The sun is almost set for the evening. The pinks and oranges in the sky are being replaced with blues and blacks. For the first time, Marcus uses the GPS. I notice he doesn't enter an address, but a group of coordinates. He takes my hand and leans in to kiss me.

We drive out into the desert, the sky getting darker every minute. Off in the distance, I see lights. As we get closer the lights turn out to be bonfires. I can see people dancing in front of them. We pull up to a man who directs us where to park. I can hear the beating of drums, like a pulse thumping through everything; the ground, the cars, my bones. Very primal.

It's a drum jam. At night. In the desert. In the middle of nowhere. There's only 30-40 people dancing so far, so it must be early. There are about a dozen drummers in a semi-circle in front of several cars and trucks with their lights on. In front of the drummers is a dance floor made up of many, many rugs. About ten feet back, and surrounding the dance floor are metal barrels spurting flames, adding another primitive aspect to the evening.

Even before we reach the dance floor, I'm bouncing to the beat of the drums. Marcus leans down and kisses the top of my head. "Easy girl." I'm grinning up at him. This is going to be fun.

We first walk behind the drummers. Marcus greets most of them with a hand on their shoulder. The drummers smile and a few words are exchanged, but they never stop drumming. I see a few more drummers setting up alongside the main group. I'm still bouncing up and down, eager to begin. This is going to be so much fun.

We circle around to the other side, and Marcus greets a few more onlookers. From the conversation, these are the organizers of this drum jam. How many are expected? Where's the water? The latrine? Then he asks about a few specific people. I'm still hopping up and down.

"OK. OK. OK. Thanks guys, I'll check with you later. I gotta go before this one breaks her leash." I stick my tongue out at him. He spins me toward the dance floor and swats my ass. "Go." So much fun.

Yes, I'm free. I slip into the midst of the other dancers; hopping, spinning, swaying. We just let the rhythm of the drums flow through us. The beat is sounding through our flesh and bones. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. People are wearing anything and everything. There are jeans and shorts, fancy tops and T-Shirts. One lady is dressed in a cat outfit, tail and ears included. Four guys are wearing togas. A few women are even topless. Old, young, thin, fat, light skin, dark skin, and everything in-between. It ends up being one large mass of bodies, all dancing and swaying in unison to the beat of the drums. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

Sometimes I dance alone among the throng of bodies, sometimes Marcus comes up behind me and we dance together. Marcus also gets the option of dancing with other people, but every time a man comes up to dance with me, Marcus blocks him. I shout over the rhythm of the drums. "Party-pooper."

His eyes are intense as he looks down on me. "You are MINE." Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

I press my body into his. "Yes." We dance until sweat is dripping down my face. My body is flush with heat in the cool desert night. He pulls me off the carpets and toward one of the pickup trucks. The bed of the truck is covered in a plastic tarp and filled with ice and bottled water. As a man hands Marcus two bottles, I stick my hands in the ice and run the cold water over my face. He hands me one of the bottles and it disappears almost immediately. He is a little slower and sipping his. After the water break we go back to the SUV. I hope we're not leaving already. Marcus opens the driver's door, slips his wet shirt over his head and tosses it in the backseat. I run my hand over his chest, my fingers seeking out the scars shining in the firelight. He takes my hands and kisses my fingertips. Then he opens the back on my top. Slowly he opens all three clasps and then slides the top down my arms and it joins his shirt in the back of the SUV. He kisses me again before closing up the SUV and leading us back to the dance.

There are more people here now. There's a man dancing on a large heavy ball. There's another cat lady, except her costume isn't as good as the first. The first cat lady has a LARP'er costume, probably custom made. The second one looks like a store-bought Halloween costume. There are four people covered head to foot in paint, each one a different color: brown, red, blue and white. Earth-Fire-Water-Air. The drum captain has changed, I see Marcus over talking with the first drum captain as a whistle blows and a faster beat is starting. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

The crowd moves as one. We circle right, swaying and spinning and hopping up and down. Some have choreographed moves, others, like me, just letting the music move their body and soul. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. The soulful baying of bagpipes joins the night. More drummers have joined in, setting up in any open space around the mish-mash of rugs on the ground. The dance goes on and on.

Marcus is standing on the outskirt talking with a man and a woman. He motions me over. I follow the mass of dancers until I'm closer, then I slip out toward the edge and meet up with him. He has just left the couple and we walk away from the music. There's a trench dug into the ground with several torches around it. Marcus walks right up and starts relieving himself. I automatically turn away. Two women arrive, giggling. They take some toilet paper from a post near the torches, straddle the trench and squat down. Yeah, I don't want to see that either. Marcus is laughing at me. "Go on, girl. It's been hours and we're not leaving any time soon."

He unrolls some toilet paper as I clumsily straddle the deep trench. I look around before I lift my dress and squat down. The two girls are finishing as I start. Marcus hands me the paper when I'm done, and helps me off the trench. We wash our hands with bottled water. We weave our way around the cars and trucks until we meet the couple Marcus was just talking to. The woman is a thin, leggy blonde, and the man is average looking and in his late forties.

The men shake hands and the girls look each other over. She's beautiful. Marcus interrupts my thoughts. "Ready?"

The blonde looks to her man and he nods. Only then does her face light up with excitement. Oh Joy. Where is this going? The drums are still ever present in the background of this new situation. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

Marcus turns to me, and with an 'Up ya go' he helps me into the bed of a pick-up truck. He has me scoot further back then has me kneel. The other man moves to the side of the truck so he can look into the bed. We both watch as Marcus starts 'petting' the blonde. Stupid blonde. Her hair. Her face. Down her neck and over her breast. He's whispering in her ear, but I can't hear what he's saying. He slides his hand behind her back and pulls her body against his. I can feel my blood start to boil. Why is he touching her? Why is he touching her instead of me?

I turn away when he starts kissing her. Almost immediately I hear him. "Eyes on me, little minx." I return my glare to them. I can't keep the sneer off my face as he starts unbuttoning her shirt. Her breasts are large and pert, with pierced nipples peaking in the cool night air. He sucks her tits for a while before her slips her shorts off, dropping them on the ground.

He lifts her up and sits her on the tailgate. His hand starts on her stomach and glides up her body to her neck, slowly pressing her down onto her back. She looks up at me, and I wordlessly look down at her. I realize she's like me. That knowledge doesn't make me like her anymore, but I know whatever happens, she's not doing it for Marcus, she's doing it for the man watching from the side of the truck. Suddenly, Marcus jerks her down so her ass is closer to the edge of the tailgate. Marcus is standing between her spread legs.

His eyes lock on mine as he runs his hands up and down her body. She's writhing on the bed of the truck, her eyes going between her man and Marcus. He lays kisses down between her legs and she starts moaning. Her hand is on his head, silently begging him for more. How can he do this? How can he make me watch?

Marcus comes up for air, his nose and mouth glistening with her moisture. I'm still kneeling by her head. He looks right at me. "There's something I want you to see, little minx. Something I can't do to you in the time I have you. Watch, and know, if there was any possible way, this would be you." The dumb blonde looks up at me with sad eyes and a sad smile. I probably shouldn't call her that. I doubt she had much involvement in arranging this little soiree, but Marcus is going to fuck her and not me. I am not a happy girl right now.

Marcus lifts her arms above her head and between my knees. He tells me to hold them down and not let go. I place my hands on her forearms and press them down against the cab of the truck. She opens and closes her hands; Marcus sees this and nods at her. The man at the side of the truck tells the girl he loves her and she gets s huge grin on her face.

Marcus is opening his jeans and pulling his cock out into the open. I watch, part fascinated part furious, as he slips a condom on. He starts to rub himself up and down her slit. Lining up with her pussy, he slowly works himself inside her. Her back arches up trying to accommodate his size and I have to press down harder to keep her arms in place.

He works them up to a good strong pace. I can't take my eyes of the junction between her legs; watching his large body force his manhood to disappear inside her smaller frame. A combination of pain and pleasure is drawing long keening moans from the blonde. As Marcus increases the pace of his thrusts, the blonde's moans change also. Her pleasure is vocalized in short, high pitched, gasping sounds.

Marcus leans forward and wraps his large hand around her throat. The moans stop instantly. I look down; the blondes' eyes are wide and fixated on him. Her mouth is open, but no sound escapes. Her back arches and she tries to pull her arms down. I hold her down. Marcus releases her. The blonde is coughing and gasping for breath, her tits bouncing from Marcus viciously slamming into her core. She's begging him now. Please Please Please over and over. Her back arches, I have to use my knees to keep her arms down. "No. Knees wide open girl. I need to see her hands." I comply, leaning forward to get more weight on her arms. Marcus wraps his hand around her throat again. All sounds stop, except the rhythmic thrusting of flesh against flesh, and the dark beating of the drums in the distant background. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.