Slippery When Wet: A Novel (Zane Presents) (20 page)

To be fucked, anonymously!

I press my damp thighs together, then cross my legs to pinch back the budding throb in my clit. “If I agree to this, it will be kept in the strictest of confidence?” I trusted Tamara, but I’m not so sure about these so-called colleagues of hers.

“Of course. These are all professional, highly educated women who simply enjoy living on the edge and pushing the sexual envelope—so to speak, in secret of course. So discretion is assured as well as required.”

“And they’re all lesbians?” I ask, practically whispering into the phone.

“Yes, every last one of them. And beautiful I might add.”

“And feminine I hope.”

“Trust me. They are everything you could ever imagine.”

“Mmmm. And why are they willing to go along with this?”

She sighs. “Because they are women who enjoy helping other women enhance their sexualities. It’s a sisterhood of sorts. Now enough of all these endless questions, are you in or out?” I can hear her tapping something, impatiently. “Look, I have to get ready to go into a meeting so speak now or forever hold your piece.”

“Well, geesh. Can I at least have a few hours to think on it? I mean, you’ve kind of caught me off-guard with this.”

“Sweetie, from what you’ve told me about this fantasy of yours, you’ve spent more than enough time thinking about it. Now it’s time to let that little freak flag of yours fly and just do it. The time clock’s ticking: five, four, three…”

A wave of intense heat rolls over me. A ton of questions race through my head. How does she know these women? Where are they from? What do they look like? Where will she be taking me? Will she be one of the women fucking me?

I stand. The seat of my chair soaked in cunt juice.

Dammit!

“I’m in.”

“Good. I’ll let the others know. I’ll pick you up Saturday at eight-thirty. Be ready. I’ll fill you in with more of the details when I have them.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“No panties.”

•  •  •

Saturday, at the exact time, Tamara said she’d be picking me up, she pulls up in my driveway and blows her horn. I give myself one last look in the mirror, then head for the door.

Before I can get into her Benz good and buckle my seatbelt, she hands me a beautiful silk rainbow scarf and tells me to blindfold myself.

I stare at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Blindfold? Are you serious? You expect me to sit in the front seat of your car wearing this bright thing over my eyes? Don’t you think that it might raise suspicions or cause alarm for those who might see us driving by?”

“No. I don’t. It’s dark out. So who cares who sees or thinks what. The blindfold is to ensure you don’t know where we’re going. And it is non-negotiable.”

I roll my eyes, reluctantly doing as I am told. Everything around me becomes a shadow of darkness. I have no idea where we’re going, or what to expect. And now not being able to see only heightens my anxiety. But it also adds to the allure. So far, the whole night is being kept a mystery. All I know is what she’s already told me, which has been much of nothing. Other than she’s taking me to a secret location where I will get the fucking of my life.

I decide to sit back and stay in the moment instead of letting my nervousness get the best of me and spoil my evening. Like I said, I trust Tamara. And I trust that she will make sure that whatever she has in store for me tonight will be everything I have asked for.

I lay my head against the headrest and settle into the butter soft leather seat, allowing my mind to drift off, imagining all the dirty, nasty things that will happen tonight. My pussy heats as I close my eyes and give into the images.

“We’re here,” Tamara finally says, waking me from a deep sleep. I yawn and stretch, surprised at myself for falling asleep. I apologize to Tamara for falling asleep on her.

“Girl, no worries. Considering the night you’re about to have, sleep is exactly what you needed. I trust you are rested and ready for what’s ahead.”

“As ready as I can be.”

“Good.” She tells me to remove my blindfold. I blink, shifting my eyes to the clock in the console. It’s exactly 10:15
P.M
. It has taken us an hour-and-forty-five minutes to finally arrive to our destination. I watch as she opens her door and gets out to open an ornate rusted gate. It is overgrown with vines. I can hear it creak as Tamara pushes it open. She hops back in the car, drives through the gates, then gets back out and closes it.

I start to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into as I stare out of the passenger window. No one in my professional circle would ever believe that I’d be into acting out a gang-bang scenario with a group of strangers in some dirty old building. I press my thighs together as filthy thoughts race through my mind.

Save from the car’s headlights, it’s pitch black out, and rather frightening. “Umm, where exactly are we?” I ask, turning to look over at her.

She takes her eyes off the winding road for a brief moment and glances at me. Her lips curl into a smirk. “We’re someplace where everything you hoped for is about to come true. I didn’t have access to an abandoned warehouse, but this is the next best thing. Please tell me you’re not getting cold feet?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to set this up. And I promise you, it will be a night you will soon never forget.”

A mixture of fear and excitement churns inside my pussy.

I shift in my seat. “I’m looking forward to it.”

She pulls around a huge circular driveway and parks in back of several other luxury cars. We are at what appears to be—from the outside—an abandoned mansion. “The others are already inside,” she says, shutting the engine and pulling her key out of the ignition. She checks herself in the rearview mirror, then opens her door. “Are you ready?”

I glance around—what I assume was once a sprawling lawn—and spot several large, beautiful white sculptures of naked woman made out of some sort of stone. Alabaster, I guess. They look well cared for in spite of their surroundings, and seem out of place here. Although the lawn and hedges are unkempt, I can tell this place was once a beautiful estate. I wonder whose property it is, but dare not ask. Not now, anyway. Real estate is not what I’m looking for tonight. Being fucked is the only thing I am interested in.

I swallow, taking in the house. “Yes.”

This place is huge.

“Then let the fucking begin.”

Where the hell am I
? I wonder, stepping out of the car, the heels of my stilettos sinking into the gravel. “I can’t wait.”

Although I am someplace out in the middle of nowhere and Tamara still hasn’t given me much details as to what I can expect
tonight, I keep reminding myself how much I trust her. I have no reason not to. Still, my stomach is doing flips as we make our way up to the huge wraparound porch with its huge columns. Two large torches are lit on either side of a huge red double door. Vines and moss creep their way up over and around it.

The place looks haunted.

Over the door there’s a sign that reads: W
ET
P
USSY
W
ANTED
in big red-painted letters. I lick the drool that gathers at the corners of my lips, swallowing back nervous excitement. Images of swaying breasts, flicking tongues, wet pussies stretching over silicone churn around in my head, causing my skin to tingle and a pulsing throb to ache between my legs.

Last night while we were on the phone, Tamara had suggested I wear very little clothing, or to wear nothing I may not want torn/ripped off of me. The thought of having my clothes torn off, then being tossed to the ground and having my pussy fucked to shreds excites me. However, I have chosen to wear a simple red wrapdress with red six-inch fuck-me heels. Beneath my dress, I am only wearing red lace panties. No bra so my breasts can bounce freely.

I am covered in red.

Red like a hot, blazing fire.

Red like a well-fucked whore.

Red like the cum-loving slut I want to be, split open and raw. Fierce and on fire and fucked by a group of strangers.

My cunt dripping wet hotness.

I am red with passion.

Red with desire.

Red with lust.

I am full of fiery heat.

“So, are you nervous?” Tamara asks as we walk up the steps.

I shake my head. “Not really? I mean. Yes, kind of. I’m excited. But I’d be remiss if I said that I didn’t have a few nervous butterflies beating in my stomach. But that’s to be expected.”

She holds my gaze. “Yes, it is. Truthfully, I’d think there was something wrong with you if you
weren’t
feeling some level of anxiety about tonight. Although this is your fantasy, one I have helped you bring to reality, you are still about to walk into the den of the unknown. And that in itself can be a bit nerve-racking.”

I nod knowingly as I take a deep breath, shaking my hands out. Now that this, my fantasy of being gang-banged, is finally about to become a real experience for me, my anxiety-level is starting to kick up a notch.

What the fuck am I doing? Some fantasies aren’t meant to be fulfilled, right? Maybe this is one of them.

But why live with regret?

Life is about exploring and experimenting. It’s about being daring and living on the edge. There is nothing wrong with role-playing and indulging in our secret fantasies.

Tamara must sense my budding apprehension. She touches my arm. “Even though it took a great deal of coordinating to pull this scenario off for you, I want you to know you can change your mind, right here, right now. No worries, no hard feelings. But, if you chose to go through with it, be clear. Once you walk through those doors, there’ll be no turning back. You will be fucked, and you will be tossed around. You
might
even be spit on, if that’s what you desire.”

I cringe at the thought of that. I said I wanted it rough and dirty. And I know being spit on can be a form of that. But that level of degradation I think I’d rather do without. I tell her this.

“Okay, understood. There’ll be no spitting. I’ll be sure to let that be known.”

“I know I said I wanted to be treated like a whore, but there are some things I draw the line at. Spitting is one of them.”

She may have set the stage for what’s to come. But it is my fantasy. And I want it to be lived out exactly—or as close as possible—the way I’ve envisioned it. So the only bodily fluids I want to taste, or be drenched in, is that of sweet, sticky cum.

“And I don’t want,” I add, “anyone squatting over me and taking a shit or pissing in my face or anywhere else on my body.”

She frowns. “Now you’re taking it to a whole other level of kink. There will definitely be none of that. Unless of course…”

“No, thank you. Not interested.”

She smiles. “But you’re okay with everything else. And you are absolutely sure this is what you want…?”

You have no idea. I’ve never been more ready.

My eyes drop to her red-painted lips.

They are wet and succulent. Their lusciousness causes an irresistible desire to kiss them, lick them and…ride them, to sweep over me. My eyes flutter shut for a brief second, and I imagine sinking my teeth into the plump skin of her bottom lip. They look deliciously sweet.

I swallow.

“Yes.”

She offers a sly grin, a carnal hunger twinkling in her eyes as she palms my cheek and grazes my lower lip with her thumb. “Behind this door there are ten, horny, beautiful women waiting for you…”

Ten women alternately fucking me?
My god!
This knowing is thrilling and intoxicating.

“…Two of them will greet us once the door opens. They will be nameless. Each woman will be wearing colored masks covering their eyes. These masks represent the colors of our flag, like the scarf I had you tie over your eyes. Speaking of which, where is it?”

“I left it in the car.” She disarms her car’s alarm and tells me she needs me to go get it and bring it to her. I do as I am told, feeling her burning gaze on my ass and hips. I return a few seconds later, handing it to her.

“Thanks. Now as I was saying. Some will want to finger-fuck you, maybe in your pussy, maybe in your ass. Others will want to tongue you. And, some—if not all—may want to fuck you…”

My breath quickens. My pussy clenches. Her words, the promise of being fucked dirty and raw, have become a powerful aphrodisiac.

“…with dildos or strap-ons, or both,” she pauses, letting her gaze drop slowly to my swelling breasts. My nipples have become hard with want. She reaches out and cups one of my breasts, bouncing it gently before grasping a nipple with her fingers. She pinches it over the fabric of my dress, and I gasp. My clit swells in my panties. “At some point you will be blindfolded, again, and your hands will be tied. You will be fucked and sucked and stretched beyond your slutty imagination. Everything you’ve said you wanted is behind that door waiting for you.”

Thoughts of fingers fucking my ass, my pussy, while a cock is fucking my throat, pushing past my tonsils and stretching my neck, has me practically drunk with want.

“Are you wearing underwear?”

Oh, shit. I forgot. She said no underwear. And my panties are sodden with heated lust. I nod. She steps into me, hiking my dress up over my hips and skating her hand over my pussy. Her sudden aggressiveness takes me by surprise as she goes into script. It is brazen and sensual. “You sweet, messy slut. Can’t follow simple instructions, I see.” She plays with my clit over the fabric. A soft moan bubbles out from the back of my throat as her hand slips into the waistband of my panties. “Take these off. You won’t be needing them. Or would you like them ripped off of you?” My underwear
sticks to the folds of my horny pussy as she inches them down over my hips. They drop around my ankles and I slowly step out of them.

Tamara breathes in the air around her. “Mmmm. I smell your arousal. I can’t wait to see you getting fucked.” I blush, attempting to squat down to pick up my underwear. “No,” she says, grabbing my wrist. “Leave them.”