Violet Eyes

I decided on the chaise-longue next to Ashley's.

Pulling up, I grasped Emma by her athletic little waist and dragged her around to my front, diving toward her ear. "I want to munch on your dirty little cunt," I told her savagely, and I felt her melt in my arms. She had a hand between us, groping blindly for cock. "I want to feel you squirm."

Panting, her eyes wide, Emma just nodded in drunken excitement. She whooped as I thrust my arm between her legs and picked her sexy little body up off the ground, slinging her over my back like a coal miner hauling his sixteen tons. I felt her hands all over my ass; she was seizing the moment, nibbling at the skin on my back, my shoulders, my arms, anywhere she could reach.

She collapsed onto the chaise with a deep, gusty sigh, and I left her no time to recover; even before her friends had gathered to watch, I already had her panties flung onto the grass and her naked legs up over my shoulders. Her pussy was unexpectedly hairy, but it wasn't like I cared about that at all; this woman was primed and ready, stinking of sex, and on top of that she was blessed with a nice, fat clit.

This shouldn't take long.

I was sucking on that quivering little finger right from the start, giving her no time at all to recover from the excitement of being thrown bodily down. Most chicks like it a little rough; not that it's comfortable, but most of the girls who want to get nasty with built strippers aren't the kind of women who regularly get caveman sex. So I devoured her, my strong fingers clenched mercilessly over her sweet little ass, her pussy-wet pubes tickling my nose. It was like shoving my nose into a sponge, like being waterboarded.

Into her slit went my tongue, tasting sweat and lust, and then her thighs were clamping down hard onto the sides of my head, squeezing me like I had my face in a vise. I could feel her body go tense; clearly she worked out, with muscles like that, and I wondered idly whether I should tell her I was a trainer.

I couldn't hear anything at all, but the whole world was vibrating around me as Emma and her stomping, screaming posse went wild. I could tell it was a massive orgasm; I didn't know her well enough to figure out whether she was used to that, but most of the women who'll let themselves get publicly eaten out by a strange stripper are, by definition, looking for a little bit of excitement, and I was pleased I could give her some.

She soaked me. Absolutely soaked me. I knew her ankles were locked behind me when I found myself totally unable to move, twitching like an animal in a trap, able to do nothing but lick at her sloppy snatch. I kept on driving, burrowing, my nose nudging at her flat belly, maximizing her pleasure, because I knew I'd need to stop soon; I couldn't fucking breathe.

She wouldn't let me go, but long ago Jerry had taught me a simple way to get a woman to unwrap her legs: jam a finger up her ass. I did, and with a shrieking squawk Emma finally kicked me free, where I lay sprawling on the grass with my dick hard and trembling, looking blearily up at where her fine little legs now drooped over the edge of the chaise, their owner sobbing and wheezing above.

Three down, one to go.

And she wasn't in the mood to wait, I could already see. Even before I got my breath back, Tara's skinny legs were folding over my thighs, her skirt hitched up under her armpits; her panties were already long gone, and I watched panting as her vagina, a weepy scarlet slit topped by severely trimmed red pubes, lowered itself to run her lips up and down along my naked cock. "You're going to fuck me so hard!" she crowed, kneading my body with her desperate hands, and I was on the verge of grabbing her ass and jabbing my dick right up into her when cooler heads prevailed.

"Hey guys," Ashley drawled, sounding like she was watching a good movie, "we're getting a little loud. Why don't we take it inside so the neighbors don't start freaking out?"

For an instant Tara and I stared hard into each other's eyes, wild and horny and filled with the need to fuck, but then I blinked and remembered I was on the job, sort of. I needed a condom.

I struggled for control, but this wasn't my first rodeo. Gently I pushed her up and off me, lifting her like a ballerina, the wary disbelief etched on her face. "Let me take you to bed," I urged, her flesh hot and firm under my palms, and finally she snapped herself back into sanity, her whole body flushed.

She was staring down at my rampant cock, her eyes lighting up. Then, she raised her head and looked around as though she wasn't even expecting anyone else to be there. "I guess we can't scandalize the neighbors," she shrugged, and then she got to her feet, slid her skirt from her body, and popped off her top and bra as though she'd been stripping in front of these people her whole life. A chorus of woo-hoos greeted her casual nudity, and she obligingly launched into a few poses. Then she reached her hand down to me. "You coming?"

"Soon," I winked, and I let her think she was helping me up. Christ, is there anything in the world as sexy as a confident woman with no clothes on? I ran a hand casually up and down my cock. "Head on in and find a bed, then I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight."

"Ooh!" Heather had her hand in her shorts again. "Big talk from a big man."

I smiled and crossed the grass to my cast-off shorts, seeking a condom, as the girls drifted into the house. I was buzzing. I was about to get laid, laid hard and vicious by a vivacious woman with no qualms about getting herself reamed open. She knew what was coming, and so did I, and we were both completely into it. That's the best kind of sex, I've always found: no strings, no illusions, no clothes.

Tara's butt was pale and skinny as I followed it into the house. Left behind on the chairs outside was a tired Meagan, who claimed her feet hurt, and Amy, who looked after us thoughtfully as she petted Norton. I glanced back, then turned to Heather. "What's her problem?"

Heather blinked. "Dude, Amy is Tara's sister. You didn't know that?"

I shrugged. "I met you guys, what, fifteen minutes ago?" I laid a hand comfortably on Heather's ass as we walked, squeezing gently. "I didn't know what I was missing, though."

"Damn straight." Ashley was in front of us, and even as I grabbed Heather's butt I was staring at Ashley's. Bitch knew it, too, swishing her hips from side to side like a Polynesian underwear model, and my dick stayed hard and straight and ready as we drifted through the house, looking for a guest room.

"In here!" It was hoarse Emma, calling out excitedly from across the house, and when I got there my little ginger whore was already sprawled on her belly atop the comforter. "Come on in, make yourself at home," she urged, looking greedily at my cock.

I leaned down impulsively to give her a deep, searching kiss as we passed. She giggled. "You taste like me," she whispered.

"I enjoyed getting to know you." I made sure my erection drifted across her body as I turned away. It's important, in a business where word of mouth matters, to leave the women happy, even if you don't put it in them. She shivered, leaning against the wall.

I turned my attention to the prone Tara. There was no more whooping now, no more teasing: these women had front-row seats at a live-action porno, and to their credit they weren't taking it for granted. Ashley, finding a loveseat in the corner and settling in with shining eyes, looked calm and self-assured; she had the air of a woman who's watched people fuck before. But the others waited motionless, grinning with wide eyes as I approached my woman.

The condom wrapper made a loud crinkling noise in the quiet room, the latex snapping into place around my shaft like it had hundreds of times before. I could feel my balls, heavy and tight, shuddering below. This was going to feel good. Tara lay lean and submissive before me, her red curls spread wide across her freckled back, and suddenly I grew impatient for her body. "On your knees, Tara!" I barked. I'd guessed outside, from her reactions, that she wanted to be taken hard. "I need a hole to put my dick in, and I doubt you want it to be your ass."

I heard a gasp from behind me somewhere, but I was focused on nothing but the naked form I was about to nail. She obeyed at once, her knees sliding underneath her to lift her butt high, the cheeks white and symmetrical and tight, leaving a wide gap in between for my dick. I made one last adjustment to the rubber, enjoying the sight of Tara's twin cheeks, her smoothly sloping back, her rumpled curls, the exquisite china-doll gorgeousness of this sweet body I was about to ravage, and then her pretty face was craning around to watch me approach.

No fear there, either. She was gazing at me with slitted-eyed lust, her eyes skating all across my body. "I'm about to be fucked by a masterpiece," she said quietly, her voice hoarse. The corner of my eye showed me Ashley, smiling, leaning forward intently, and then I was kneeling on the bed behind my waiting woman.

I'd teased her enough outside. She was wet and ready, and I lined myself up and slid on in, making it a little more than halfway before I felt her spasm around me. I stopped at once, my fingers light on her hipbones, waiting until she relaxed, and then I went back to work. She let out a quivering sigh as she felt me fill her at last, and of course the magic was there when I looked down past my own tanned, rippling body and saw nothing but her smooth ass pinned against me, with no distance between us.

Shit, she felt good.

I was already planning ahead. She was fully into my body, and she'd want to watch me as I pounded her. So I kept it gentle at first, riding smoothly in and out, getting her calmed down and smiling into the comforter with her eyes half-closed. A phone clicked behind me as it took a picture. I reminded her I loved her ass, light feathery finger-touches across her flesh, tickling her; just calm, even, enjoyable fucking, two sexy people getting to know each other.

Her asshole was staring at me, and for a moment I wondered idly whether someone so skinny could ever be made to take it there, but around that time she started backing impatiently into me, our taut flesh starting to slap, and an appreciative murmur began to rise behind me. Unable to stop herself, Emma burst out with "Go get it, Tara! Yeah!" And then Tara was blushing, smiling, forcing herself backward with greater speed and a devilish twist in those strong hips, and as things got a little more heated I knew it was time to flip her over.

She wanted a Greek god? She'd get one.

I smacked her hip insistently, and of course she got the message; this bitch was fully present, totally in the moment. She gathered herself and then leapt off my dick, landed on the pillow, and threw her sinewy legs wide for me. I chased her across the mattress on my knees, my balls hanging low, and I'd been right: she was staring at nothing but my muscles as I approached, her eyes wide and hot. Her vagina was more than ready for my rigid dick as I spread my knees wide to get my shaft low enough; she matched me perfectly, raising her legs to rest on my shoulders, and with an earthy squelching noise I plugged straight back into her.

She felt different this way, hotter, tighter, or maybe she was just more into it now that she could watch me. She was staring the whole time, her fine fingers incredulous on my chest and belly, her mouth wide open in pleasure, and so I gave her what she wanted: I sped up and started smashing into that snatch like it had offended me, like I was trying to get her pregnant, like I was looking to bust straight through the back of her pussy and cum into her lungs or something, and the sweat began to fly.

"Fuck yeah," Heather blurted, now close behind me, and Tara and I didn't care; we just kept on fucking, our bodies in synch, our flesh slamming together. I'd made the right pick, clearly; she and I were all over each other.

When the moment was right, I snaked my finger down and began to flick it along the top of my plunging shaft, searching for her clit; I could tell I found it as she showed her teeth and drove her head back into the pillow, the tendons in her neck standing out strongly. A sudden warm wash of her juices was dripping down my thighs, and I leaned down to brace her shoulders so that I could fuck her harder.

She pushed through that orgasm and then clasped her legs around my flexing ass, staring hard at my face with her pupils wide. Her whole body was red and sweaty, and holy shit I wanted to make her cum again. This woman was a phenomenal lay. She felt great underneath me, her body surging with mine, and I changed the angle of my hips so that I could drag my cock across her clit like a bow across a violin string, and I pounded her straight down into the bed until, at last, her eyelids fluttered and her legs tightened some more, and that was it.

Tara was completely fucked out as I ripped my cock savagely from her greedy hole, my balls jiggling expectantly. She scrambled frantically to get her hands between us, clawing at my dick until she had the rubber off; she flung it over her shoulder into some remote corner of the room just as I jerked myself once, then twice, and then let go.

She gasped and then laughed, exhilarated, as my sperm smacked onto her flesh. Heather, leaning in very close, breathed, "Holy shit." I came powerfully, five strong surging spurts, all of them painting her chest and face in a series of lumpy white lines. She was panting hard up into my face, laughing, my world suddenly dominated by the scent of basil.

"Well." I gave her a chaste kiss, gentle and careful to avoid my own semen; I dislike the taste. "I guess I've fucked a Tara now."

"You sure have," she giggled.

We straightened up as best we could, but I think Tara was a little ashamed of the stains she'd left on the sheets, as well as the spent condom we never did find. We all hoped it would be awhile before the Kleinmans had anyone over. I dropped the van back at Barx, collected my paycheck, and then five of the girls from the party took me out to dinner; Emma wasn't up to it, and had to get back to her husband anyway. We lingered over seafood and some wine, and when it was time to go there were hugs, kisses, even an overt grope or two.

Amy's sitter had put her kid to sleep. We did our best not to wake him up, but we were not successful.

* * *

And then? Back to the grind.

I picked up a few easy bucks every week or so as a life model over at the university's Art Institute, collecting a nice fat collegiate fee for literally doing nothing more than sitting on a stool, or occasionally standing up. It did go a bit long sometimes, and there was a strict rule against smiling, but it was sixty an hour and the referrals had already paid off.

The professor was a dry, precise woman with no interest in me whatsoever. She'd welcome me with some tea, but after that she was all business: "They're drawing the musculature of the forearm today," or "I want you to make absolutely certain your legs are eighteen inches apart," or even "You need to be erect today." I'd worked with her for a couple of years, and she seemed to respect my body.

Oh, and no flirting with the artists. That was another rule.

But the blonde was back that afternoon, sitting next to the strangely intense young lady with all the tats peeking out from under her clothes. That one was trouble too, all smoky slanting eyes and a power-packed little body, but her neighbor was the one who got my motor running. Tall, very slender, she was one of those delicate, fair-haired waifs with ethereal eyes and flesh so pale it seemed translucent.

I had no idea why I was so attracted to the skinny little bitch. I'd stuffed so many women that it was impossible to say I had a "type;" they were all beautiful, in a way. It was true: there's at least one sexy part of every single woman on Earth, a defense mechanism Jerry had taught me early on. But I couldn't really pin down what it was about that blonde.

I think it might have been her vulnerability.

In my mind's eye I didn't just fuck her, I completely brutalized her. I tied her down, I handcuffed her, I whipped her with a riding crop. I took her rough in the ass, spending hours wedging her open with a cock gone harder than I could remember. Still in my imagination, I hooked her mouth to drag her head painfully around so that she could watch my dick emerge from her tight little anus. I choked her, I shook her, I left her panting and sobbing, streaked with sweat and tears and cum and shuddering in the grip of the massive, searing orgasm I'd given her, the best she'd ever had, and then I turned on my heel and left her room with my dick swinging long, the poor shattered girl begging me to come back and do her again.

Every time I posed for this class it was like that, me fantasizing about my quiet little pale mouse on the end of the row, gnawing on her lower lip as she worked hard trying to render my ridged body in charcoal. It was a curiously intimate relationship; I felt like these art students knew my body better than Brooke had, even though I'd dated her for five solid years.

At the end of every session I had to shake it off, the grim memory of that brutal fantasy, and those were the only times anymore that I ever had to jerk off; I was always careful not ever to touch the waxy girl with the blonde curls, not even to look at her, so on the day when the chick with the tats stopped me, I was confused. "What?"

"I said," she replied evenly, "I want to know if I can tattoo you on me."

I blinked, glancing over as the blonde left, drifting back into her life. "You what?"

"You're the sexiest man I've ever seen," she explained bluntly. "And I like sexy men. If you'll give me permission, I want to take my drawing of you and put it on the back of my thigh." She turned then and, quite casually, pulled her skirt up to show a few patches of pale skin on the backs of both legs, one of the smooth, pale regions extending up onto her butt underneath a practical pair of green panties. "Right up onto my ass."

I swallowed hard. But not as hard as she swallowed later, when she took my load down her throat before a long, sweaty night of sexual gymnastics in a converted industrial building outside of town. She had an apartment up in there, with a whole bunch of heavy equipment downstairs; I have no idea what she was up to, but she was certainly into me. Three times I got it up for her that night, the sexy little witch.

But I'll be honest. The entire time, I was thinking about the pale blonde who'd been sitting next to her.

* * *

Lauren told me about a booking she'd assigned me to, maybe four or five months after the baby shower. I'd forgotten most of that, the party guests blending into the usual string of strip-jobs, the endless oral and manual encounters with scores of screaming women. I'd seen Amy several times; she'd hired me as a personal trainer, which was going well, but I'd actually begun to forget about Ashley and her violet eyes. "They requested you specially. Bachelorette gig, the usual thing. Two guys, one fluffer."

"No shit." I studied the call sheet. "Me and Kyle? No third?"

She shrugged. "She just wanted you. I had to convince her to take someone else." She smiled to herself. "They won't regret getting Kyle. I might have to go along as the plant."

"Huh." I frowned, then I understood. The contact person on the form was one Tara Jordan. Jesus. Obviously I was being hired to strip at Ashley Gallo's bachelorette party.

I pulled out my phone and thumbed my calendar open. "When's this? Two days?"

Lauren shrugged. "If that's the date on the form." She looked up from her solitaire and frowned. "What? What is it about this chick?"