Chapter Two

The music pounded in a heavy beat, the bass rumbling across the floor and shooting up Rhylie’s body, making her vibrate. The dancer tore off his hat, tossing it into the corner. Long, flowing locks of jet-black hair snaked down his back and over his shoulders.

Rhylie’s nipples formed into taut little buds, pressing against her lacy bra. Her clit throbbed, tendrils of pleasure flowing out from it, threatening to overtake her as a seductive grin spread over her fireman’s face. He licked his lips, and then turned to the audience, giving her a perfect view of his incredibly tight ass, encased in tight tan pants.

He swirled his hips from side to side, then wiggled them, his buttocks firm in the molded clothing. Rhylie wet her lips and wondered what it would feel like to clasp those buttocks as he thrust into her, pounding his cock into the wetness that now flowed freely from her swollen folds.

He turned to her, his hands tangled in the suspenders that covered his otherwise-bare chest. She swallowed hard and focused on his muscles, wondering how many hours a day he worked out to keep his body in such perfect form. She imagined being under him as he did his daily push-ups. He would kiss her with each descent, his tongue licking the sides of her mouth as he lifted back up, then came back down on her again.

Or maybe he would do his sit ups with his face pointed to the bottom of her body. His tongue would find a new target then, licking across her clit as his rock hard cock teased her mouth before lifting back up. Her excitement grew as she envisioned swallowing him, feeling his cock pulse inside her mouth, and then lift back out, teasing her repeatedly with each thrust.

Rhylie focused her gaze on his crotch. A thick bulge there let her know he enjoyed his work, very much. She bit her bottom lip, wanting to pull the pants from his body, see his cock spring to life, take it in her mouth and suck. Hard. She imagined running her lips around the head, tasting the little drop of moisture that would appear, tickling the slit until he hissed his pleasure. Then she would...

A snap of his suspenders broke her fantasy, and she glanced up at him. Dark eyes communicated his desire, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was thinking, and how much it turned him on. He ran his fingers over the bulge, his hips still gyrating to the relentless beat.

Then he gave his pants a yank, and they separated at the sides. He threw them over his head as the crowd howled its approval. The little G-string he wore didn’t hide his arousal. His cock peaked over the top, growing with each second, snaking toward his belly button.

His finger caressed the underside of his shaft, lightly tracing the prominent vein. “Do you like what you see, my little Rhylie?”

She nodded, wanting again to lean over and take him in her mouth. He was long and thick, and it had been so long since she’d been with a man, and seeing him made her insane with desire. He stroked himself, making a circle with his thumb and forefinger, then he leaned toward her.

A roar from the crowd made her jerk back, and she looked out, not seeing past the darkness of the stage. Behind her fireman another fireman danced, entertaining the crowd. Rhylie’s eyes narrowed in confusion as the dancer she’d chosen tugged the side string of his costume, pulling it from his body and leaving him completely naked.

He stroked himself again, and Rhylie moaned softly, the moan turning into a heavy groan as his free hand caressed her thigh, gently sliding over her skin.

“Open for me.” His accent confused her just a little. She hadn’t noticed it earlier. It was European, maybe Italian? Or Spanish?

Who cares? Rhylie thought, opening her thighs at his command. The crowd wasn’t paying any attention to them. They were watching the other dancer as he strutted back and forth, his hips moving in a sensual rhythm.

Her dancer lifted one of her legs over the arm of her throne, and her dress shifted above her hips. He touched her panties and they disappeared, making her gasp. How had that happened? Clothing didn’t just disappear. It was impossible. She tried to close her legs, but he stroked her gently, her body turning to jelly under his touch.

“Shush, little Rhylie. Don’t question. You’re mine right now. Relax and enjoy what I can do for you.”

I had sex with a stripper on stage, in front of an audience. Top that one. She slunk into the chair and nodded, wondering where the practical, rational Rhylie had gone. He was kneeling now, both hands on her thighs, kneading her flesh and making her clit throb with even greater intensity.

Fire burned inside her as he licked his lips then lowered his head between her thighs. The first sweep of his tongue made her arch into him, and the sharp little point he’d made with his oral appendage speared her folds, sliding into her wetness.

Rhylie grasped the back of the chair and pushed herself into his mouth as he grasped her hips, his tongue sliding up and down her wetness. She bucked her hips as he feasted, sliding deeper into her, making her body shiver with pleasure. She lifted herself up on her hands as he slid his tongue inside her, flattening it and sliding it in and out, caressing her inner walls as she gasped for air.

When he slid out and gave her inner labia one long, hot lap of his tongue, she shivered, then gasped as he captured her clit in his mouth, sucking it hard, then pushing the hood back and grazing the tight bud with his tongue.

She came instantly, grasping his hair and pulling him closer, grinding herself into his mouth as waves of indescribable bliss rolled over her. He continued to nibble, his teeth gentle yet firm against her clit as aftershocks rolled through her. The pleasure subsided, and he licked her again, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves, sending her flying again.

This time she screamed as the orgasm slammed into her harder than the first, tightening her muscles as he continued to bathe her with his tongue. Her body soared, lifting from the chair. Four gorgeous men at each limb held her up as the fireman devoured her, the pleasure almost unbearable.

Rhylie undulated under his touch, pulling against her human bonds as he filled her with one, two, and then three fingers, sliding them back and forth as he continued to lick and eat her pussy. When she came a third time she screamed for him to have mercy on her body, which felt as if it were on fire, the flames licking at her nerve endings. He nibbled on her thigh, sucking heavily, and she giggled as thoughts of him marking her as his own spread through her. Her reasoning seemed to disappear as he stopped, his hand still stroking her now naked body, whispering words of endearment and encouragement, telling her to ride the pleasure, to fly to the heavens and back.

Shockwaves of ecstasy filled her, making her feel as if she were soaring, her body tingling from the thrill. When he licked her thigh, then sucked the tender flesh into his mouth, she screamed out again, pleasure overtaking her as his thumb flicked over her clit, sending the over sensitized flesh into spasms yet again.

When she finally came down, and registered where she was, she sat in her chair, fully dressed. He stood in front of her, his hips moving, his cock settled inside the tiny strip of clothing he wore.

The ladies in the crowd yelled their approval as he leaned over and gently placed his lips on hers, his tongue soothing and soft as he licked her lips.

“Happy birthday, sweet Rhylie.” He extended his hand, and a gold lamp appeared in his palm. He gave it out to her with a wink. “For you. It is my sincere desire that you would wish for me, and let me set you on fire again, hum?”

“What’s your name?” She studied his eyes, marveling at the fact that they now looked amber, almost like a flame of desire burned inside them.

“Alesandro. But my friends call me Sandro.” He stepped back and offered his hand. She took it and stood, clutching the lamp to her chest.

“Thank you, Alesandro.” Her mind reeled at the fantasy she’d just produced, and in front of a thick crowd of women. What had she done? Had she screamed out when she’d come in her dreams? Or had she just lived the whole thing out in her mind?

Heat spread up her cheeks as Alesandro continued to study her, as if he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking. Would he be disgusted to know she’d just had an incredibly life-like fantasy that he’d gone down on her, complete with three mind-blowing orgasms?

“It was my pleasure, Rhylie. My extreme pleasure.” He stroked the lamp, letting his finger trail over the web between her thumb and forefinger. “And it will be my pleasure to serve you again, and again, and again. I can promise you that.”

* * * *

“Call him!” Cassidy pushed the phone across the bed toward Rhylie, who shook her head. They were back in the hotel now, all three of them without male companionship.

“He didn’t give me a phone number, just the lamp.” She picked up the birthday token. It felt warm in her hands, but she resisted the urge to stroke it. Her friends had already teased her mercilessly about the dance Alesandro had done for her, how her eyes had been glued to him the whole time as he’d strutted for the spectators, turning to her often to give her a little private dance before turning back to the ladies sitting in the audience.

“I creamed my panties,” Cassidy said, taking a drink from a bottle of water. “He was hot.”

“Very,” Elise said, wiggling her tongue.

Rhylie cut her gaze toward the window as memories of her fantasy flooded her mind, how Alesandro’s tongue had sent her soaring higher than she’d ever been in her life. It was just proof that the mind was a powerful thing, she thought. All it took was one very well-formed male body to make her sexually-deprived body think he’d devoured her pussy, and she’d let him, while four men held her high in the air to be pleasured by his tongue.

“Well, I’m going downstairs to the bar,” Cassidy said, standing quickly. “Who’s with me? Maybe we’ll get lucky down there.”

Elise quickly assented, while Rhylie demurred. “I’m tired.”

“I would imagine so,” Cassidy said. “You had an orgasm, or two, up there, didn’t you? I would have been coming all over that chair.”

Rhylie blushed. Her friends laughed, and then thankfully left without pushing the issue. She studied the lamp, pulling the top off and peering inside. She wasn’t sure what she hoped for, maybe a sheet of paper with a phone number on it, or a card with Alesandro’s name and address printed on it, along with a “meet me,” message.

When nothing popped out she put the lid back into place, then set the lamp on the table. She lay down on the bed, still fully clothed, her body still tingling from the orgasms she’d had that night. She had “creamed her panties” just like Cassidy had said. The little strap of material had been soaking wet after the dance. She let her fingers slide over the dress and down to her thighs, which pulsed under her touch.

“Alesandro.” She spread her thighs and touched her mons, her folds feeling strangely sore as if they’d been seriously worked over that night, as they had been in her dreams. She closed her eyes and imagined Alesandro standing in front of her, his eyes blazing that beautiful amber color, his cock in his hands.

“Fuck me, Sandro, please.” She slipped her fingers inside her panties, touching her clit. She came with one stroke, her hips lifting from the bed as her climax peaked. She closed her eyes, imagines of the gorgeous dancer between her thighs fueling her dreams for the rest of the night.