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Perfect Matches

Kategori: Genel

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Author’s comments: First things first: I offer a silent prayer for our men and women in the armed forces.

{You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to, but don’t begrudge or belittle those who do. As the ACLU intentionally misquotes; the Constitution of the United States of America guarantees every citizen freedom “of ” religion, not freedom “from” religion. Don’t believe this? Read the document for yourself, actually read it… and I mean the words that are written in it, not the ones you personally would like to see there.}

Without the selfless sacrifices of our soldiers, sailors, airmen/airwomen (and can’t forget the Marines) over the last 228 years, there is a very good chance you might not be reading a word of this, nor would any of the writers here at Literotica—as well as the readership—be able exercise what so many have fought to preserve and died to protect; the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States… the inalienable right to freedom of speech.

Think about that; really think about it, long and hard… before you go bombarding my email for going off on a political rant.

I also want to wish everyone a Happy and prosperous New Year. Love, Luck, and Lust to you all.

Secondly: While I hope everyone enjoys this story, it’s written for one very special slut sister here at Literotica, whose name (unless she chooses to reveal it) shall remain strictly confidential. I know, I’m being a bitch again, but to me, privacy is one of those absolute words or phrases; such as consent, loyalty, and taking personal responsibility for one’s actions. (Sorry, didn’t mean to preach.)

And thirdly: There are several categories this short story could be placed in; Group Sex and BDSM to name two. However, given the overall gist of the story line, I think you’ll agree that, all in all, Lesbian Sex was the proper choice. Although, when it’s all said and done, Romance would have been a viable option.

And lastly: This story was posted for about a day and a half. Due to technical editorial issues, it had to be pulled, so this is, essentially, a reposting… with a slightly modified title.

* * * * *

If you saw her sitting behind her desk—her red hair up in a tight French twist; reading glasses perched on a slender nose she, more often than not, had buried in a law book; whatever feminine charms she might possess hidden beneath a severe business suit—you would never suspect that prim, precise, and always punctual Kathleen Oberon could also be the center of everyone’s attention in the main orgy room at Krystal’s Palace—so named mostly because sole the proprietor’s name happened to be Krystal.

Known orgy revelers are not exactly the sort of persons major corporations care to entrust their legal affairs to, but, on her own time, protected by the high-tech security provided members of the ultra-exclusive club she belongs to, that is precisely what Kate is; an insatiably horny, bi-sexual cum-slut, who just can’t turn down the offer of a hot load of slimy jizz or yummy cunt-honey—anywhere the accommodating guy or gal wished to give it to her.

And tonight was no different than the many nights that had come before it, or those that would come after this one, and the ones after that one… and so on, and so on. Kate knows herself better than anyone else possibly could; when she is really into something, she tends to become obsessive; but when that something is another person, mere obsession is forced to give way to overt possessiveness—a state of affairs most people are not comfortable with. Our heroine, therefore, is a confirmed bachelorette and will probably remain one for at least the rest of her natural sexual life. And, if sex is no longer going to play a part in a relationship, why on earth would anyone want to go out and get themselves hogtied to the same person day after endless day, night after sexless night? Just to sit in a creaking rocking chair, watching someone else growing old along with you?

No, this has definitely not been one of Kathleen Oberon’s lifetime goals; that’s why she’s a Life Member at Krystal’s Palace. Here, she can revel in all the sex she wants—on some nights wallow in more varied forms of deviant sex than she can handle—with no emotional ties whatsoever, no strings of any kind attached. And when she (and she alone) decides it’s time to split the scene, she’s free to just up and leave; no reason or explanation given… to anyone. The key word for Kate is freedom; the freedom to go where SHE wants to go, when She wants to go; to do what SHE wants to do, how or with whomever SHE wants to do it… and not be answerable to another living soul for any of it.

Sex in any relationship also involves personal, as well as shared, responsibility. Uninvolved sex, simply for the sex itself, is far less claustrophobic. In Kate’s opinion, it’s the perfect sort of relationship… at least for her.

However, growing impatient with her present semen donor, Kate has clamped her slippery vaginal muscles a little tighter around escort ataköy the cock of the man kneeling behind her to further encourage the guy to get with the program and start laying some serious pipe to her. She’s only cum once on this guy’s cock and would really like to have another satisfying jolt go off inside her before he shoots his wad and will most likely be finished for a while. But, sadly, she realizes it isn’t going to happen as the guy gasps, tenses, and lets go with what is a comparatively small load cum into her already soupy cunt.

Courteous, even in the heat of fucking, she waits until his cock has withered and fallen out of her before reaching back between her legs and filling the cum-filled void with three knowledgeable fingers. No one knows what make you happy better then you know yourself, and Kate learned at an early age what made her the happiest, and what it took to accomplish the desired results. With her fingers curled so that they will rub on her G spot as she fucks them in and out and her thumb vigorously massaging her throbbing clit, it’s only a matter of seconds before she gives herself a climax at least five times better than she would have gotten with the guy slumped on the floor behind her.

Her breathing eventually returning closer to normal, she stands up and the copious amounts of sperm she’s already received this evening runs down the insides of her sweat-bathed thighs in slimy rivulets. The slippery, sticky wetness is a turnon in itself for Kate. In the last few years, ever since being accepted into Krystal’s Palace, she has come to look forward to the exhilarating feel of male, and female, genital fluid lathering her naked flesh almost as much as she craves the uninhibited sex she revels in on at least a bi-weekly basis.

Stretching, she checks in on the various sexual acts going on around her. A lesbian couple is off by themselves in one dark corner. Three gay men are going at one another hot and heavy in another corner. Half a dozen heterosexual couplings are being actively engaged in; two oral combos, three pretty much straight fucking, and the third consists of an Asian woman kneeling on the floor, gritting her teeth as a well-hung Slavic type is plowing her asshole like he’s drilling for deep sea oil

Two menage-a-tois are taking place side by side in the middle of the large room. Two borderline elderly women—one white, the other black—are seriously working over a much younger black man in one ménage. The other ménage is made up of the Caucasian gent who had most recently added his cum to her overflowing cunt, now sucking on a huge pair of Hispanic tits, while the owner of those massive mammary glands is having her asshole deeply fucked by a substantial black cock.

She glances around the room once more. All of the men in the room, except for one of the gay guys, have cum in her or on her at least once; three of the men having done the sloppy honors on her twice. She’s eaten out eight of the twelve available pussies in the room, and—women tending to cum, at the least, twice to almost any man’s once—she’s had her face creamed with yummy cunt-honey a total of fifteen times as juicy rewards for her superb lesbian servicing. Having the hots only for each other, the lesbian couple has twice declined her offer to help them out and the salt and pepper matrons are totally devoted to seeing how much use they can wring out of that long black dick before the poor guy is completely done in.

Kate sighs with a disappointment; she’d undressed only a couple of hours ago and already her options have dwindled down to less than a handful. Sometimes orgies are like that, though. Sometimes you have to play with what’s available in the room two or three times in order to get your fill, and other times, even taking on five and six partners at a time means that some of the revelers are going to have to take rain checks if they want you to play with them.

All in all, for a Friday night, the present occupancy of Krystal’s Palace main orgy room is only at about a quarter of its capacity. But, it’s still early.

Oh, the hell with this! Why am I trying to do this the hard way when a first person narration would be a far more intimate venue to relay this story to you? It has to be a whole lot easier than trying to retain a non-biased objectivity in the third person. So, I’m just going to do it that way.

If this is okay with you, fine. If it isn’t… Well then, it’s tough titty kitty! I’m going to shift gears on you, anyway. It’s my story and I can tell it any damned way I want to. So, leaving the opening just as it is—to basically set the scene for you—I’ll continue on in my own voice.

Not really in the mood to join in any of the present sexual shenanigans, I (Remember, I’m speaking in first person now.) I wandered out of the main room and down the hall towards the refreshment lounge. The warm semen that oozed from my cunt and down my thighs was a slick wetness that I thoroughly enjoyed with each step. I turned into esenler escort the cozy lounge and sat down on a barstool, wet and naked, and loving it.

The lady bartender—a pretty blonde, accustomed to having naked, semen-splotched women waltzing into the lounge, smiled from the other end of the bar and started towards me. “What’ll it be, kiddo?”

Tasting the creamy jism that still coated my teeth, tongue and gums, I swallowed several times, then clear my throat. “A…” I croaked hoarsely and cleared my throat again. l had to repeat the unclogging process twice more before I trusted myself to speak without rasping. “A club soda, please.”

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” the blonde bartender said.

I looked down through my 36C breasts at my stomach. I felt a twinge in my pussy when I saw just how much cum was clinging to my tits and blood-red pubic hair. I knew I was making the stool wet from my sloppily creamed pussy, but that only added to the eroticism of it all. The bartender put the glass of clear soda and ice in front of me and I offered my club wristband to show that I had an unlimited account.

The blonde smiled and nodded. I picked up the glass of soda and downed a large gulp, then another. The cold liquid cooled my parched throat. It’s carbonated effervescence even cleansed my palate… somewhat.

As the bartender moved away, I asked, “Do you have a mirror handy?”

She stopped and turned around. Smiling and pointing over towards some nearby tables, she answered, “Over there on the wall’s the best I can offer.”

I thanked her, slipped off the stool and strolled over. I knew the blonde would be watching me walk toward the giant gilt-framed mirror. I knew she would be admiring my shapely, glistening body. In the mirror, In the reflection I caught her wetting her full lips with an abnormally long tongue.

I looked into the mirror, appraising my slutty reflection with a calculating eye and felt my pussy twinge again. The image looking back at me was not exactly what would be expected to be seen in a 26-year-old, up-and-coming second year corporate attorney with a prestigious, and ultra-conservative, law firm. Especially not an apparently quite normal, young professional woman from a rural Midwestern family.

No, not hardly. Within the private confines of Krystal’s Palace, this not-so-nice redhead in the mirror, with the pleasant facial features and shapely figure, firm, great tits riding high on her chest, and a full bush of dark reddish hair nestled between her nicely turned legs, almost all of it glistening wetly, was most definitely not what her stuffy associates at work would approve of, let alone what her puritanical family would think of this slut. Thick ropes, lines and streaks of still wet sperm covered most of her face and neck, her proud tits and flat stomach, and behind her reflection, her nice ass was plastered with the jizz of half a dozen men already. Cum was in the wild luxurious mane atop her head and the thick, crinkly bush crowning her prominent pubic mound was matted with spunk to the point of resembling a Brillo pad drug through raw egg whites.

I stepped in closer to the mirror and studied her face. Streamers of glistening sperm ran up and down her cheeks and across her forehead. The shiny pearlessant lines crisscrossed her neck. Milky droplets of sperm hung suspended in her wet pubic curls like lascivious liquid Christmas ornaments. Thick globs of cum oozed slowly down the sweeping curves of her firm tits, and some of the longer lingering droplets were clinging precariously to her engorged nipples.

“So far, not too damned bad,” I proudly complemented the smiling cum-slut in the mirror. I swiped a sizable glob of sperm from my tit with a finger, sucked it clean, then licked the residue from my lips as I returned to my stool, and the patiently waiting bartender.

“Been quite a night, huh?” she asked, idly wiping the ring left on her neat bar by my glass.

“Pretty good, so far.” I answered. “Plenty of hard guys to play with.”

The bartender chuckled. “Catch any big ones?”

“One guy was pretty big.” I held my hands about ten inches apart.

“I’ll bet that felt good,” the sexy blonde replied.

“It was okay, but there was another guy with a short, thick cock who really got me off good.”

The blonde rested her elbows on the bar and I could read her nametag. It said her name was Leslie. She pointed at a wet splotch just above my pussy and asked, “Which one was he?”

“Hmmm. Don’t really know,’ I chuckled. “It feels like the big fella’s still inside my pussy.” I squeezed my thighs together tightly. “Nope, that’s the best part of him leaking out of my cunt and down my thighs,” I added with another laugh.

“God, you’re a sexy bitch.” Leslie said huskily. “Do you do women?”

“Ummm,” I freely admitted. “Though, it depends if they’re what I like.”

I eyed the blonde, taking careful note of the woman’s full, unfettered breasts; their large, escort bayan pink aureoles, centered by rigid, thumb-sized nipples easily distinguishable through her sheer white blouse, the woman’s flared hips wrapped tightly in black jeans, the long, blonde hair braided and clipped up behind her head. “You’d qualify, Leslie.” I cooed, giving her my very best sultry-eyed come on.

A dreamy look in her pale-blue eyes and licking her hot-pink lips with the tip of her tongue, Leslie smiled back.

A man’s demanding voice gratingly intruded into our intriguing interlude from the other end of the bar. “A little service please!”

Leslie lingered for a long moment, then turned and walked down towards the semi-naked man. I watched her tantalizing hips sway as she moved away. “Nice ass,” I commented loud enough for her to hear.

“I know,” she threw back over her shoulder.

I hadn’t recalled her name, but I pretty much knew all I’d ever need to know about that big-titted, hot-assed blonde. Leslie Blackstone was a twice-divorced, 37-year-old mother of two girls who worked the four to midnight shift tending bar here for a couple of very good reasons. One, the pay was damned good. Krystal’s Palace paid top dollar for a talented bartender, and Leslie definitely had talent to spare.

Her second reason was less mercenary. In lieu of tips (which she wasn’t going to get anyway, since any and all libations were part and parcel of the astronomical annual membership fees) she had free and unlimited access to any of the club’s facilities, including any willing club members. This salacious fringe benefit was unknown to her third husband. A good thing for her, and an even better case of selective ignorance for him. I rather doubt there all that many lay ministers whose congregation would understand his supposedly passive and obedient New England wife’s uncontrollable, and increasingly more frequent, urges to revel in the slut life with wild abandon.

But, I did. Boy, did I ever!

I glanced at the man Leslie was waiting on. He stood with a towel around his thick waist and had apparently ordered several drinks to go. Leslie handed them to him paper cups. No glass was allowed out of the bar; broken glass and bare feet can really quell a good orgy.

Leslie came back to me and leaned her elbows on the bar. The glazed look—replacing the earlier dreamy gaze—in her eyes clearly said she was in heat… serious heat. “I not really suppose to be doing anything with members, not until I get off… But, what the hell; my shift’s almost over, and Krystal’s up in the penthouse overseeing a private party with a half dozen gay couples, so there isn’t much chance of her coming down and catching me…”

“You going somewhere with this?” I asked impatiently.

Leslie licked her lips suggestively. “Come around the bar and stand facing the room.”

I did as she asked and then her hands were on my tits, her pelvis pressed tight against me. I spread my legs and ground naked ass into her pubis.

“Enjoy what I’m doing to you?” she whispered in my ear.

“Yes,” I answered back.

“Think about how I’d be doing you… say, ten years ago, Kate? It’s sortta like being back in high school, isn’t it? You’re the one in front, keeping lookout; your bowed out knees shaking like crazy while you’re getting felt up in the hallway after school; wishing with all your heart that it was your favorite Home Room teacher whose hands are making you feel so good, instead of those belonging to the butch girl in school, who just can’t keep her hands off other girls.”

What was Leslie; a fucking mind reader? She had just tapped into one of my fondest high school masturbation fantasies. About… That’s right! …one of my favorite teachers.

Leslie broke off her erotic litany long enough to probe my ear with her wet tongue and then continued, doing everything to me that she was so graphically describing in my ear. “Remember, Kate? Remember wanting that special teacher’s soft womanly hands inside your panties, making your pussy so wet… her thumbs tracing circles around your newly discovered clitty, two of her long, slim fingers spreading your down-covered pussy lips apart so she can snake her middle finger up inside you… slowly sliding that finger in and out of your wetter and wetter hole. And then her other hand slides around inside your panties, so it can feel up your young, firm butt… working her fingers in the sweaty crack of your butt until one of them begins probing at your asshole. That favorite teacher licking the back of your neck while one of her fingers is fucking your cunt and another one is starting to worm its way into your asshole.”

She tongued my other ear. “I’m that extra special teacher, Kate. Relax and just go along with me.” Two of her fingers were buried in my cunt and her thumb was easing into my asshole. “Remember hearing her telling you, Kate, as she’s double fucking you closer and closer to a climax, that, just as soon as she’s made you cum, that she’s going to take you straight to her house, strip you naked and lick your teenage pussy until you’re begging her to teach you how to eat a woman’s cunt? Remember her bringing you so close to the edge, so many times, that you just know the next time she takes you that close, you’re going to pee all over her wondrous hands.”

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