Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Grad Dresser Part 2 By onyx Marabana

It was a space….and a world, which astounded him. The space was utterly techno….the dilapidated façade had been a front for an astounding display of light and texture—he thought he had entered the set for some neo-Goth, science-fiction set—cast of—well—hundreds maybe….and, they were there….Incredible. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning…. And, oh yes—naked…. The only thing that the flyer hadn’t pointed out—or had he missed it?—is that they were all better hung than he….
He had always wondered about this part of the world…. It held a certain fascination…. And even as he backed toward the exit, sure he was in the wrong place, there was a certain excitement—he was semi-hard…. ‘Careful, Hun,’ she whispered huskily as he backed into her. ‘You don’t want to get me too excited our first date….,’ the laugh was soft and shallow. He turned to apologize and just froze…mouth open….
‘You might want to close that,’ she breathed. ‘There are more than a few girls here who know how to fill it.’ There was a soft chuckle. She was shorter than him, even in her stilettos. She was slender, but tight—toned. And she had a rack that defied imagination. ‘Yep,’ again that husky, breathy voice, ‘they’re mine. Best money can buy—34c,’ as she followed his line of sight. She was the color of dark copper, with a short-cropped, twisted head of hair to match. The eyes blazed an iridescent green….the nose broad and haughty; and lips, a slashed scarlet that even Angelina would have lusted for…. Then it trailed down her thigh like seven inches of thick, sleeping snake…. ‘Whoa, Boi,’ she whispered. ‘First time, huh?’ ***
She gripped his hand…. ‘C’mon. Sit for a minute.’ She guided him to a booth. He had the presence of mind to ask what she was drinking. Apple martini for her; coke for him…. She giggled, ‘so you thought that we were all imaginary creatures, huh?’ He could feel the warmth of her naked thigh against his pant-leg radiating heat….his cock inching its way to hardness down the inside seam…. Where he had stared, open-mouthed when he bumped into her, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her now. ‘You are a shy one. We don’t get too many black student-types in here….mostly the professors.’ His head snapped round to her pretty face. ‘What?’ he said. She stared back quizzically. ‘Black guys don’t come in much….’ ‘No…. You said something about ‘professors’…. ‘O…they love us,’ she replied with a smirk….

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