Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
*All characters in this story are at least eighteen years old*
*This chapter plays some time after The Reunion Ch. 04 It’s possible to read it as a single story but if you like it you might want to check out the rest too 🙂 *
Hey Krissy honey! Wanna Netflix and chill this weekend? 😉 I’m “up” for it, hahahaha! *pun intended*
Jesus flippin’ Christ, if I get one more “playful” reference to quick sex I swear I’m gonna throw myself in front of a train. After three months of internet dating, I think I’ve seen everything.
From the romantic types that want to “enjoy life to the fullest” with their hobbies “doing nice things together with you” and “enjoying some good wine” to the cavemen who send me a dickpic in their third message and get angry when they don’t get rewarded with the International Photography Lifetime Achievement Award right away. Then get aggressive when the next message isn’t “Oooh what a nice dick, I’m waiting here with my legs open for you to stick it in me…” Hell, I don’t even have proof that he is actually the guy in the profile pic.
There, it finally happened: I’m a cynical old hag that will never get any partner anymore because all the good men are already taken. I should go looking for a cat to keep me company so I never have to leave my house anymore for anything other than to buy cat food.
I scroll through my contacts:
Paul. Who was he again? Ah! I remember. Disaster date. Wanted to watch some football match in the pub, he looked like a nice guy so I joined him but it turned out all his mates were there too and he forgot all about me. His friends didn’t though and when they were drunk enough to get courageous they all tried to hit on me one by one, until the last one vomited on my shoes and I called a taxi, who drove me around for half an hour for what should have been a five minute ride. Blugh. *Delete*
Marcello. Very charming and I must admit, a complete hunk. Brought me flowers on our date, kissed my hand, polite but daring, held the door open of the perfect restaurant he reserved and paid for, took my coat and helped me back in it again. We had a very romantic walk by the riverside. The perfect date in any way. If it weren’t for the constant calls and messages he received from what I strongly suspected were other girlfriends or exes. I should have seen it coming. *Delete*
Rasmus. Turned out to be a total creep when after two months of intense messaging I asked if we could meet in person. I tried to hook up a few times but there was always some excuse. Finally, he stopped replying completely. Somehow I think I’m not done with him yet because after that I have a feeling I’m being watched at night if I forget to close the curtains. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I didn’t have problems with mail missing until Rasmus. I still hope it’s coincidental. *Delete*
Erik, Hendrik, Kenneth, Kai, Clarence, Simon, Petter, Peter, Jacques, Ralph, Ralf, Rolf. *Delete*
Martyn. The perfect hot blonde with lovely blue eyes. Two kids who appear in almost each picture in his profile. Perfect personality description. Likes all the likes that I like too. Wants all the wants that I want too. We exchanged four messages directly after we matched and it immediately felt like this is the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. Then he disappeared offline never to return. I have been waiting for at least ten weeks now. Sigh…… *Delete?… I kind of wanna end this but I still hope he miraculously reappears in my messenger. I can always do it later.
What else do we have? It’s Friday night and although I’m tired from work I promised myself to make sure not to turn into an old tart. So I forbid myself to stay home with a bucket of ice cream and a stack of romcoms every weekend. Perhaps this Spanish guy that already sent me six messages this afternoon? I’m a bit tired of the southern European type if I can be honest. They’re so intense and demanding; at the moment I just don’t have the energy. Skip that one too.
Shall I call Monica? Or was the opening of their new tree nursery project in Cameroon this weekend? She was also mentioning a vernissage in Havana. Sometimes I wish I was her. Sigh… I just feel so utterly alone at the moment.
“Beepeep!” A new message chimes in and I’m already starting to get annoyed before even opening it but wait! It’s not some annoying guy this time. It comes from Zoë. Hey auntie! How’s it hanging? I’m in town, wanna hang out with your favourite niece?’ followed by a row of party emojis.
My favourite niece? I think. More like my only one. I haven’t heard anything from her side of the family for more than six months. Besides, Jessie would kill me if I started hanging out with his daughter after last year’s events. Things got a little too much out of hand to his taste. I better bail on this one. ‘No escort izmir can do’ I message back, ‘already at another appointment sorry. *Sad emoji*’ So, that’s done, I think.
“Beepeep!” I know you’re naughty my dear auntie, but lying to your favourite niece? Tsk tsk tsk. Look out the window.
Oh fuck it! I take one step to the window and see Zoë standing next to a car opposite to the house, waving at me with a broad smile. Shit, checkmate. For a moment I try to think of a way out of this but then I think, Whatever, I don’t have anything else to do anyway and this might be fun.
I message back. Ok, you got me. No pizza and TV tonight for me. Give me five. I can see her smirk from here before I change into something more festive.
Twenty minutes later I’m in the back of the car with Zoë, wearing the only festive dress I could find on such short notice: the red summer dress that I wore to her baptism party. Time sure flies.
“I’m so happy you want to join auntie, this is gonna be so much fun!” She looks ravishing as she makes her excited party moves. Her hair is longer and redder than ever and she is wearing an outfit that reminds me most of an old movie poster that my father had hanging in his workshop with Raquel Welch depicting a cave woman.
“Yeah, totally,” I manage to reply. After the fallout with my brother I asked her several times not to call me anymore but that only made it worse so I gave up being annoyed about it.
In the front of the car are two men introduced to me as Sam, professional firefighter and his gym buddy Bogdan, designer and conceptual artist. I must admit that when Zoë introduced us I had to swallow and was short of words. My god, I don’t know where she found these guys but these are next level. Not comparable to the nitwits in my tinder.
“P-p-pleased to meet you.” I stick out my hand.
They chuckle about my stuttering.
“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” Sam says with a broad smile. “Zoë didn”t exaggerate when she described you.” He winks at me and hops behind the wheel. My eyes shoot fire at Zoë.
“WTF?” I mouth but Zoë replies with her most innocent smile and shrugs.
I decide to leave it and try to relax a bit.
“Where are we going guys?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” Zoë answers with a mysterious smile. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”
Half an hour later we drive over a forest road and park at what appears to be the middle of nowhere.
When we get out of the car I can hear faint beats coming from the woods. A five minute walk later I find out the origin as we enter a field filled with people. I need a moment to adjust to the situation and take in the guys and girls dancing in their skimpiest outfits. As the bass tones pound in my ears I notice a small stage surrounded by lights where a female DJ is rocking her turntables. I look closer and my mouth falls open. In my party-years I never saw a girl DJ-ing let alone one that’s only dressed in headphones and pink glitter. While she’s dancing behind the turntables with her hands in the air I can see her bare breasts swaying with the rhythm.
The visuals are hypnotizing and I barely notice Zoë taking my hand and pulling me closer to the partying crowd.
“Come on!” she shouts over the music, “We need to go to the other side!”
I follow her through the dancing crowd, trying to take it all in. Most people seem young and are dressed up in special outfits. We pass two muscular guys dancing together, dressed in black leather shorts and paper-mache horse heads on their shoulders. One of them has “stallion” written on his chest in big black letters.
A bit further I spot a chubby girl with two small butterfly wings on her back, which seem to be her only items of clothing if you don’t count the colourful body paint and two antennae on her head. She catches my gaze and gives me a cheeky wink with eyelashes that must be an inch long at least.
“Come this way!” Zoë urges and she sticks up her hand to wave at the DJ. The headphoned star notices us and she gestures us onto the stage. “Long time no see superstar!” Zoë says as she hugs the naked girl.
“Likewise, party girl! It’s so good to see you.” she replies. “Who’s the stunner you brought with you?” Stunner? I think to myself. I wouldn’t call myself that. Especially here, surrounded by gorgeous teenagers.
“This is my aunt Krishna.” Zoë replies. I wish she wouldn’t call me that, but ever since she found out my official name she won’t shut up about it.
“Auntie, meet DJ TST. We used to be college friends before she started professional DJ-ing. Her real name is Irma but that didn’t really sound very rock and roll so now it’s T for friends.”
I stick out my hand while trying not to stare at her quite substantial glittery breasts.
“Don’t listen to her. Just call me Krissy.”
“Very pleased to meet you, Irma is ok.” She winks at izmir escort bayan me. “I can talk to you in an hour or so. I have to run back to my set now.” And to Zoë: “Are you all ready for your performance?”
“Which performance?” I want to ask her but my niece has already ran off. Alone, I look around what to do next. It doesn’t take much time before a handsome young man pulls me into the dancing crowd.
It has been ages since the last time I danced. I decide to let go of my inhibitions and just have a good time. With my hands above my head, I let the rhythm of the music take over. The young man I’m dancing with is wearing some kind of harem pants which contrast nicely with his tanned skin. I focus on his tight abs, shimmering with sweat. First I copy, then I react to his movements.
It takes some time before I remember how I loved to dance when I was a teenager. Or rather, before my body remembers. In time I feel the beat dictate my movements. My body lets go and my mind dissolves into the music. People around me are not more than moving bodies to play a sparring game with, lusting eyes to flirt with before moving to the next partner. Pulling and pushing, touching and being touched. Challenging and provoking while the dance beats pushed me further and further into the zone where there was nothing else then music and my body.
The music is more aggressive and industrial than it used to be in my days, but I like it. The DJ very cleverly knows how to build up the tension, adding deep bass notes and speeding up the beats while working to a certain climax before starting it all over again with a new sample or a movie quote.
Also the crowd is very different from any party I’ve ever visited. The boys and girls are dressed up in original costumes or have used body paint or weird accessories to perfect their look.
I’m especially fascinated by the outfit of a black girl who is dancing a few meters from me. Her substantial breasts are emphasized by the cleavage of her dirndl ball dress. Contrasting that look are two big grey ram’s horns sticking out from her afro, making her look like the beauty ánd the beast in one spectacular package.
Moving from one dance partner to another, like a butterfly, I find myself dancing opposite of a total hunk of a man. I find myself lusting at his muscular torso under a tight t-shirt. Just as I try to reposition myself to get a good look at his butt he calls me by my name. I’m shocked until I realise that he is Sam, the fireman.
“I said, can I get you a drink?!” He shouts over the music.
“Yes please! A beer would be nice!”
“No beer! Pick something else!” He points at a sign near the bar which makes clear that this is a non alcohol or drugs party. WTF? I think, what’s wrong with youngsters nowadays? I decide on sparkling water. Well, I could do without a hangover tomorrow. It might not be so bad in the end.
Just as Sam returns with my drink the music suddenly stops a few seconds before the speakers belch out a deep bass drone filling the venue with sound and hurting my ears. Then the epic sounds of a church organ played at full strength are added creating a very dramatic effect.
On the other side of the field the crowd starts cheering and I have to find a good spot to stand before I can see what happens. From behind the stage a cart appears, loaded with a big object covered with colourful drapes and pulled by six men. Naked except for a big horse’s head on their heads. I recognise one of them by the letters “stallion” painted on his chest. My eyes open wide as I notice that he doesn’t wear the leather shorts anymore. His big cock, most certainly stallion worthy, swings between his legs. None of the other men are wearing any covering either and as they pull the heavy cart to the middle of the field their pronounced muscles shine under the sparse lights.
If I hadn’t fully noticed the erotic vibe of this party yet, it now hits me right in the face. My body feels it too. Entranced I watch the six naked men struggle with their load. The droning bass, church organ and an upcoming sound in the mix of African drums are on a volume so high that my body resonates. The physical reaction is unmistaken. I feel a familiar warmth grow in the center of my body and I start breathing through my mouth, my eyes tightly focused on the monster cock of the stallion guy.
A bit ashamed, I glance over to Sam to see if he noticed me staring but his eyes are focused on the show. I catch him absently rearranging his cock in his trousers and the thought comes up that he might be gay. Of course. I think a bit disappointed. The good ones always are.
Then a drastic change in the music pulls my attention back to the show. A mix of jungle drums on a heavy housebeat is the sign for the horsemen to stop pulling the cart and to dance around it. My god, just look at these bodies. Where do they get izmir escortlar these men? Only now I notice that all of them have horse’s tails too, waving around and seemingly coming out of their… wait. What?? Ow fuck. I’ve seen these before on the internet. All these guys are wearing buttplugs with a tail attached to it.
Before I can make up my mind if that thought arouses or disgusts me the music changes again and their dance becomes wilder and wilder.
They pull off the drapes of the cart and uncover what looks like a big box, painted in a jungle pattern with flowers and leaves. Suddenly the box disappears behind a curtain of fireworks fountains and while the crowd cheers and whistles the box goes up in flames exposing a big cage. Another twist in the music and when the smoke settles a naked woman in the cage becomes visible.
She dances frantically on the beat that’s still speeding up all the time. Her body is painted in orange and black tiger stripes and she wears a matching tiger mask. From where I stand, I can see that she has a perfect body with firm breasts standing proud on her chest. As she turns in circles a big cat’s tail sways around her. I can’t help but notice that the way it’s attached to her body is similar to the horse’s tails. I made up my mind now about that. The thought turns me on massively. This girl has guts to dance naked in front of hundreds of people, a plug stuffed in her ass. It must give a huge rush: an explosion of power and sexual energy.
The thought alone makes my pussy damp and my nipples poke through the front of my dress. I can’t help to feel jealous of this young, perfect body, shamelessly showing herself to the crowd. Waving her red curls to the music. Wait! What? I know those red curls!!
My mouth falls open as I recognise my little niece in the spectacular appearance on the stage.
I don’t have much time to think about it though, as the music suddenly stops and the lights go off. For a moment the crowd is silent, confused by the sudden end of the show. It only takes a few seconds, then a series of explosions blow the cage apart to set the tigress free. The crowd goes wild as the DJ starts another tune and when the lights go back on Zoë is dancing on the cart surrounded by the six stallions.
I’m still staring at her as Sam pulls me back into the crowd, urging me to dance. Which I do with full dedication. The crowd sucks me in and I hover between men and women, boys and girls. Pulling and pushing, touching and being touched, challenging and provoking. Dancing closer and closer until people turn into nothing more than just bodies.
Tight male bodies in even tighter sweaty t-shirts surround me. One is in front of me and another is grinding on my ass. Strong hands are on my hips and shoulders, hands on my ass and belly, going higher to my boobs and lower to my crotch before disappearing into the crowd again, leaving me desperate for stimulation.
A girl with cat ears on her head and painted whiskers on her face eyelocks me from a distance, dancing towards me. I play along and move in her direction. Seconds later we’re dancing together, her gaze so strongly focused on mine that it starts to get scary. She constantly provokes me, urging me to give her every move I have. Suddenly she’s close, staring me straight into the eyes she puts one hand on my butt, pulling me against her. Then within a fraction of a second she kisses me full on the mouth while her other hand grabs my crotch. Before I know what happens both her tongue and finger enter my body. I shiver from pleasure, but not for long. One, two, three seconds and they’re gone again. Then without notice she’s gone, leaving me behind shocked and hornier than I ever thought possible. My panties are dripping wet.
As it becomes later people start to leave, disappearing in small groups through the trees or over the beach. Even with the smaller crowd of party people the music keeps pumping its heavy bass across the terrain. It seems not everyone that leaves is going home right away. When I go to the toilet I see different couples behind the bushes kissing or more. The black girl with the rams horns I admired earlier I spotted not far from the toilet block with two men dressed in neon sucking on her big boobs while clearly visible massaging her pussy. Her high pitched cries echo through the forest. I remember seeing the guys earlier in the night dancing with each other so closely I was convinced that they were gay. Not then, I think. Or at least not entirely. But hey, everybody likes boobs, I can’t blame them.
Without the music I notice the buzz in my ears. I wonder if it is because of the loud music or the exertion. It doesn’t really bother me though. It’s a good, warm buzz that gets louder when I’m on the toilet where it’s dark and quiet. I’m still very worked up and for a moment I wonder if I just should masturbate here to take the edge off. But I’m also very tired and decide not to go through with it. I fade away until noises and giggles from the next stall pull me back into the world. I flush, pull my panties back up and leave the block quietly.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32