0 comments/ 37710 views/ 15 favorites Lust Burning By: Caresse Lord but I was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid! With an inward groan, I stared moodily out the van's dirty window, not even seeing the blurry scenery passing by. He was watching me, the bastard, I could feel his gaze burning into my nape. Usually, I have a pretty good grip on my emotions. But today, Chris' worried clueless idiotic fucking puppy dog gorgeous green eyes were driving me nuts. And whose fault was that? a cynical little voice in my mind asked. Mine mine MINE, I screamed back at it, because I'm stupid stupid STUPID! Stupid to think that I could forget Marissa like this, fight the control her perfect body gave her over my testosterone driven mind. Men really do think with their dicks, was the ironic whisper in my mind. Yeah well right now, mine was rock-hard, leaking like a melting pop-sicle on a July afternoon and resolutely trying to tear through my jeans. Stuck in this stuffy van with the rest of my band and a mountain of equipment, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Shifting restlessly, I bent my right knee and huddled miserably against the drafty window. In my current state, the position wasn't really more comfortable but at least my leg now sort-of concealed the obscene bulge at my crotch. Wouldn't do to have our burly drummer, Rocks (don't ask, it's a long story) who was sitting next to me accidentally notice my straining erection. That sarcastic voice in my head started laughing, shrieking hysterically at the thought of the scene it would cause and I felt my lips quirk in spite of myself. Rocks enjoys his women like his beer; blonde, fresh, all-american and as many of them as possible. I don't think he's ever even looked at another guy's cock. And with the amount of time he spends in the gym, he's certainly had ample opportunity. A thought which promptly sent my dirty mind into a brief locker-room fantasy full of muscular jocks with 9 inch cocks. God but I was desperate if I was starting to fantasize about Rocks. He is most definitely not my type. Way too much muscle for me. And although his buzz-cut did set off features that were handsome in a rugged kind of way, I would never have considered him normally. That's what you get for not letting yourself cum for 15 days, the insidious Voice in my head responded slyly. Okay, point noted. Now shut up, I told it firmly. The thing is, the voice was right. This whole mess started with a major blow-out with Marissa, my on-again off-again girlfriend. I swear the girl is like a drug. Curvy in all the right places, lips to die for and breasts that must have been hand-sculpted by the devil himself. And she knows it, the bitch. I had finally decided that I couldn't take her petulant irrational behaviour anymore and was firmly determined to dump her for real. Somehow, we wound up fiercely kissing and then my eyes were rolling back in my head from the pleasure of her plump lips and skilful tongue on my cock. As she finished swallowing my load, her eyes shone with fierce triumph as she drawled, "You can't dump me. " "You're too weak to resist this" she added with a long slow sensual lick up my still sensitive shaft. Later, staring at the ceiling after I'd screamed at her to get out, her laughter seemed to echo in my room. She was right, I realised with a sick feeling in my stomach. Okay so maybe I've watched too many movies or maybe I'm an arrogant jerk but by the end of that night I'd decided that I would prove to myself that I could resist her. We usually made up and were together again within two weeks of breaking up. So I wouldn't have sex with her, no, I wouldn't even cum for two weeks. After that I would be free. Strong. Independent. And really, really horny, the stupid voice added. Resting my burning cheek against the cool, humid pane of glass, I tried to concentrate on the conversation around me. Jake, lead guitar and founder of our punk-rock band was driving. He was arguing enthusiastically with Richard, our manager about sound and bass levels and all the technical disasters that might happen at the gig tonight. The Most Important Gig of our time together. We would be recording it and if it was any good, we might have ourselves our first album. And I was so freaking worked up I wasn't even sure I would remember the words to any of the songs. If the band failed because of me, Marissa would have won and I was not going to let that happen. The minute we got to that motel, I was going to lock myself in my room and have the wank of my life. Angie, Jake's girlfriend and our piano-back-up vocals-tambourine girl, was in the back seat, along with a microphone stand and Chris, our bass player. I swallowed hard as images of those two ignited the burning ache in my groin to a searing, throbbing pulsation. Man, I couldn't take this much longer. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing steadily, resisting the terrible urge to touch myself. In. Out. In. Out. Stu. Pid. See, I don't particularly care about the gender of my partners. I tend to like a rather ambiguous androgynous look. Exactly like Chris. Tall, slim, with slender hips and an ass that literally makes my head spin. Longish hair falling across handsome, somewhat delicate features. Amazing liquid green eyes with touches of gold in them framed by luscious black eyelashes. I had never seen him naked but I imagined his cock would be long and so hard, throbbing with the beat of his heart. The idea had me drooling with rampant lust and I had to concentrate on breathing again. Chris was soooo hot! Right from the start, I'd felt a twinge of … something…. when our eyes met. For me, it was a fresh start. A new town, a new band, all the old bitter problems left behind. A clean slate. It had been hard leaving my home, but it was really worth it. I'd felt like I could finally breathe again. I hadn't been near a microphone in nearly six months when a friend from work convinced me to audition for his cousin's band. We'd clicked immediately, all of us. Despite the inevitable head-butting that rose from strong personalities, no amount of strongly expressed opinions could tear apart the affection between those three childhood friends. A good-natured current of humour and respect linked them and now, surprisingly, me. It was as though I'd finally found the niche I was meant to fill. And if Chris made my mouth go dry, well so be it. There was absolutely no way I was going to ruin the gang. I also knew I wasn't the only one with similar feelings. When Jake introduced us all to his new girlfriend, Rocks and I had swallowed hard. Chris had blushed, stammering a little and I could tell from his slow smile that he really dug the little firecracker. Shit. Blood beating in my ears, I'd tensed, anticipating trouble. This was the way friendships fell apart. Little jealousies, yearnings that got blown out of proportion chewed away at the foundation of affection until eventually it would crumble. I'd been through this painful process once and I didn't think I'd survive a second time so soon. Then Chris' and Jake's eyes had locked in an unspoken exchange. An alpha-male battle, two spirits colliding in a breathless moment that seemed to stretch forever. I didn't catch every nuance. But I could guess the general sense: "She's hot." "Yes. " "I want her. Badly. I could get her, maybe. " "Yes. But she's mine. I love her. " "I know. So I won't. " "I trust you. " And just like that it was over. Someone made a joke, Rocks choked on his beer and everybody laughed. No pretending, no argument. Admitting what was and what would be done about it and that was that. Case closed. I'd rarely felt as elated as that moment, like fizzy bubbles in my veins. Yes! Maybe there was hope that this could last! The sudden jolting of the van stopping brought my head cracking sharply against the window and back to the real world. Finally! Time for some serious release! Inner sigh of relief from the Voice. Except that sometimes fate or God or whatever seems to take pleasure in throwing curve balls at me. We were late. Very late. Turns out we had a dinner with some big important folk before the gig and we really were going to have to hurry to make it. STRIKE ONE! Ok, so just a quick jerk in the shower then, my inner Voice corrected. In the state I was in, I could probably come in less than 10 seconds anyway. Except that there had been a major water pipe breakdown in the motel and half of it was unusable. With many well-phrased excuses, a serious discount and free dinner coupons for our next stay, the hotel manager explained that we would have to pair up in the rooms. STRIKE TWO! We had to divide a suite with 2 double beds, a luxurious honeymooner's room with a fireplace and a regular ol' (cheap) room between the lot of us. I was doomed. Heated discussion or no, we ended up paired together in a way that shut the Voice up in helpless despair. There really wasn't any argument against leaving the lovers the romantic room. Lucky bastards, they were going to have sex in a jet tub. Richard, as manager, wanted the internet connection and the extra table in the business suite for band meetings and such. Logical. "Then stick Chris with him," I tried to argue. Except that this left only a room with a double bed for me and Rocks and whatever girl(s) he brought back that night. Potentially interesting but he wasn't having it. If he was going to have an audience, then he at least wanted them "watching from a different bed, not jerking off two inches from his face." Richard turned a blotchy red at this comment but to my surprise, I sensed unexpected seriousness beneath the playful banter. I felt like screaming. And it was all my fault. I was out of my mind with sexual frustration and now I would be spending the night in the same bed as the man who starred in all my recent fantasies. STRIKE THREE! Don't forget he's straight! Seems the cynical Voice had recovered and was back commenting the situation. Guess some of my dismay showed on my face, cause Angie sympathetically patted my shoulder, sending tingles down my back and making my swollen dick lurch in my pants. I couldn't help the groan and Chris shot me a sideways glance, looking moderately hurt at my reluctance to pair up with him. What a mess. The rush of carrying stuff in and getting everything organized took my mind off the bed situation. But I couldn't put it off forever. Less than half an hour later, I was leaning against the solid support of the door to our small room, overwhelmed with nerves. There was a cold ball in my stomach and a ringing in my ears. I was so jittery I could barely breathe. And innocent attractive Chris picked up the vibe. Sitting on the couch, well, more like a loveseat that was ridiculously flowered and about four feet long, he searched my face for a long uncomfortable moment before asking me if something was wrong. He was genuinely concerned and wanted to help. So sweet. Choking a little, I muttered about how everything was wonderful and turned my back on his emerald stare. God I wanted to kiss him. A shower. It was the first time the Voice actually suggested something useful, so I guess I must have been even worse off than I thought. Yes, a shower would get me away from him momentarily. An ice-cold shower. Maybe if I was really quiet, I could finish myself off. That way I might spend at least part of dinner without a raging hard-on. "Ok, Mat, you go first. I have to shave anyway." Lost in my thoughts, I nearly jumped out of my skin at Chris' words. I hadn't even realized I was speaking out loud. My brain frantically tried to rewind, to know if I'd only let the shower part slip. I didn't know. The last minute was completely blank. Face hot, I studied my bass-player's expression. He looked completely at ease, if a little baffled, so I decided my tongue hadn't betrayed me too badly. There are so many other things you could do with your tongue. Or his tongue. I hastily shut the Voice up before this deteriorated. I just couldn't wait to get out of the aching constraint of my jeans. Gathering my toiletries, I was halfway to the bathroom when someone began trying to pound a hole in our door from the hallway. Bang! Bang! Grumbling, I altered my route and was nearly run over by Rocks bursting in as soon as the doorknob turned. STRIKE FOUR! Hey no fair! There is no such thing as a strike four! But the news Rocks brought was exactly that. The water in their room was still out of order, though it would be fixed by tonight. He had come to share our shower. Given that there was three of us, two who still needed to shave and thirty minutes till we needed to be out the door, there was only one option. Fuck privacy issues, there would have to be one person shaving and one person showering at all times if we even hoped to make it. Standing under the spray with our drummer two feet away on the other side of the vinyl curtain, I was torn between strangling the guy and simply dropping to the floor and banging my head on it until I blacked out. Even the feeling of the rivulets of water racing down my skin was torture to my oversensitive body. I could feel little muscles twitching spastically everywhere and my hips jerked despite myself. My balls ached so bad that I couldn't think. And my dick… Lord, my erection was so powerful that it was almost ridiculous. Jutting out, distended and purple it bobbed with every beat of my heart. Miserably I watched it twitch, not even daring to touch the pulsing head, though the need to do so was making me weak in the knees, because there was no way in hell I would have been able to stop. I allowed myself a single crushing squeeze around the base immediately after I turned the water off. It did absolutely nothing to relieve the ache, just as I knew it wouldn't. Fuck. Somehow, I managed to make the breathless dash into the room and into my underwear without the guys really noticing my condition. I hope. I'd originally planned to wear my leather pants for the show, but thought better of it. Those things are uncomfortable and sticky enough without a full-blown hard-on. Settling my faded jeans on my hips, I groaned softly at the discomfort of zipping up. Lord but it was bad! Sticking my hand into the waistband, I nearly fainted from the pleasure of the contact necessary to adjust myself into a somewhat less painful position. Fingers wrapped easily around the shaft, the urge to pull the loose skin over the sensitive head swamped me. God it felt so good. My hips twisted, the need for friction rapidly escalating. I saw fire bursts behind my closed eyelids and my stomach quivered with need. Tugging faster, I was oblivious to anything but the waves of lust radiating from my core. Sensation, long denied, finally overwhelmed me. My hand was stuck at an awkward angle, movement seriously restricted, jammed into my pants but I couldn't care less. Yes! Yes! YES! So good! So close! I could feel the pre-cum leaking from my slit. My mind totally black, I focused on the tingling that was rapidly tightening in my balls. Not a thought of Chris or Marissa or anyone; I was aroused even beyond the possibility of forming a coherent fantasy. "Holy shit Mat!" Rocks shouted exclamation froze me on the spot. Hand clutching my still-convulsively jerking cock, I forced my eyes open. No! The Voice wailed in agony. Just do it! Let it go! Cum, what can he do about it!? Except that the shock of being discovered and brutally interrupted actually made my erection fade a little. I was no longer trembling on the point of no-return. Jolted cruelly back to my senses, ejaculation lay beyond my reach. Sheepishly, I removed my hand from my pants, shiny with the evidence of how close I'd been. Without thinking, I sucked my glistening fingers into my mouth. The expression on Rocks face went from shocked disbelief to guilt to … curiosity? I could feel my ears turning red with embarrassment. For a long moment we just looked at each other while my heart raced, trying to plan what he might say and how I could react. Chris, clearing his throat in the open doorway to the washroom, clad only in a towel and gleaming with wetness from his interrupted shower nearly made me lose it again. I was back on the edge, rock hard. So much flawless skin, hard planes of muscles drew my gaze down past tight abs to that pristine white towel. Oh to rip it off, then brutally pin him to the wall… Did it just jump a bit, maybe the beginning of a bulge? I didn't have time to check, because he abruptly turned around and disappeared back into the bathroom. Probably my imagination anyway. "I think maybe we should talk, "came his muffled voice. "But Rocks needs to be in the shower." So it was that a few minutes later, I was leaning against the tiny bathroom counter, valiantly trying once again to ignore Chris's naked torso and most definitely not looking at the blurred form of our drummer in the shower. Please God just strike me down on the spot and end this torture. Cheeks burning, I somehow managed to blurt out the gist of it; the fight, the blowjob, my resolution. It felt like my entire head was on fire from embarrassment by the end. Focusing on the four corny fish that adorned the bottom of the shower curtain, I wished again and again that I could just disappear. Too bad humiliation wasn't enough to completely deflate my dick, although I was considerably less erect by the end of my story. Until I chanced to look up and found my eyes drowning in Chris's green gaze. I forgot to breathe at his fierce expression. Oh Lord, his eyes were burning straight into my soul. He knew. There was no doubt. At that moment he could tell exactly how badly I ached for him, even though I had carefully kept my tale heterosexual. The revelation had him shell-shocked, his pink tongue licking nervously at lips slightly parted. I couldn't stop myself. Taking a step forward, I moved closer. I was going to kiss him, I just couldn't help it. He didn't move back, even when I stood close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. I could easily read the emotions flicking through his stare, compassion, a brief moment of panic, quickly replaced by… acceptance, trust, a trace of excitement. Jesus. He was going to let me kiss him, it was crystal clear. My gorgeous, straight friend was willing to allow me to push his boundaries! Forcing myself to go slow, give him time to turn away, I closed the distance between us. Easy now, the Voice gasped breathlessly. Don't rush things. Now that the moment I'd dreamed about so often was suddenly reality, I felt strangely calm, detached. I noted the way his breath was hissing in short huffing bursts, the tension in his shoulders, the smell of his shampoo wet hair and aftershave. His eyelids flickered rapidly and he got that Deer-in-the-headlights look again. Our mouths inches apart I stopped, surprised at actually being able to do so and dead certain he was going to bolt. It was simply that the moment felt so right, so perfect, I couldn't ruin it by forcing myself on Chris. He swallowed convulsively, and then his features suddenly hardened in determination. His eyes squeezed shut and I wasn't prepared when he suddenly jolted forward, kissing me hard, almost frantically. Like a man who'd screwed up his courage to jump off a cliff, he was on me aggressively, not giving himself time to think. After the first few seconds of initial shock, I began to respond, moving my lips against his. No tongue, not yet. Gradually taking control of the kiss, I felt him relax slowly, the harsh ferociousness easing away under my deliberately tender assault. It was sweet for a few minutes, almost chaste, wonder and exploration gradually building into need. It became more and more difficult for me to ignore the passion, harder and harder to be gentle. The fires were building and my already frazzled self-control was letting me down. Little keening sounds coming from Chris's throat undid my last resistance and I deepened the kiss, forcing my tongue into his warm wet mouth. Lust Burning Ch. 02 Ch. 2 –Interlude Although this story stands on its own, reading the first chapter will definitely help you understand the context a little better... After that amazing first kiss with Chris, my mind was totally fogged up. I couldn't quite realize that I had finally made out with the man of my (wet) dreams until we'd both cum. I don't remember much about getting ready for dinner, just rush rush rush as first Rocks then Richard tried to propel us all into faster movement. For once, that irritating Inner Voice of mine was completely silent. Still in shock, I guess. Good riddance. I could feel a vast whirling emptiness inside myself, sweeping me up in giddy energy. I was on top of the world. Amazing what a good strong ejaculation can do to lift your mood! But more than that first embrace, it was the vast realm of possibilities that had suddenly opened which had me reeling. Oh Lord. My rather abstract longing, comfortingly familiar from all my restless nights of the past few months, had suddenly morphed into something way too real for me to fully comprehend. As if that nameless monster from under your bed suddenly came up to you in the middle of the day for a coffee and a chat. Surreal. For the moment, I couldn't think straight about consequences or even where I wanted all this to head. Once more, inside the van. Except that this time, I wasn't frustrated out of my mind. Discreetly, I observed my fellow band members. Chris looked... Actually, he looked like the way I felt. Shell-shocked. He answered my smile with a timid one. At least he wasn't mad or ignoring me. Rocks seemed suspicious. I caught his gaze sliding between Chris and I a few times and he got this weird speculative look. Speculative, yeah! followed by a rude snort. Great. Just when I thought that the Voice was gone, it was back. Besides, I didn't think Inner Voices could snort or be vulgar. I mean, weren't those things supposed to be, like... consciences or something. All Godly and stuff? Another snort followed by mad laughter. Oh, right. Crazy people have Inner Voices too. Anyway, why wouldn't Rocks have sensed something going on? I asked myself. I'd always pegged him as not-that-quick-to-catch-on-but-a-great-guy. Never thought I'd describe our brawny drummer as speculative. Maybe there was more depth to him than I'd imagined... Time would tell. For now, there was nothing I could do. Twisting in my seat, I noted that Jake and Angie looked sort-of flushed and breathless. So they'd been having sex too. "Will you stop it?!? You're making me nervous, staring at us like that!" Jake snapping curtly at me was pretty out of character for the normally smooth guy. "Sorry..." I responded sheepishly. Actually, now that I paid closer attention, Jake seemed rather pissed and his body language was tense. I revised my judgment. Make that interrupted sex. Richard must have needed a shower too. Guess we weren't the only ones who sheltered a waterless-room hobo... Staring out the foggy window again, I let my mind drift. Bits of what had just happened floated randomly around my conscience. Chris' eyes, half-lidded. His strong fingers curled around the edge of the counter. My breathing, all fucked up. The hot humid steam from the shower washing over us. My hard-on, pushing against him. His hard-on, pressing back. The salty taste of his skin. Wish I hadn't been so caught up in my own pleasure to notice his orgasm. Shit! Stop it, idiot! Too late, I answered the Voice wryly. I'd managed to work myself once more into a quivering mass of need. What was wrong with me? Stupid Stupid Stupid! Remember? Shut up, I told it crossly, readjusting myself as inconspicuously as I could. I knew I shouldn't have worn leather. It was raining when we finally stopped. Drenching, actually. And freezing cold, with nasty gusts of wind that whipped my hair into my eyes. We hurried into some fancy restaurant, complete with a stuck-up maître d' who pinched his lips in disapproval of our rockin' appearance. He even walked with a brisk, prim stride, back straight as a ruler. Wonder what he'd look like with a 12 inch dildo up his ass? I managed to turn my chortle into a somewhat passable cough but I knew my eyes were twinkling. Chris must have guessed approximately what I was thinking, cause he winked at me, making a rude hand gesture and we both spent the next minute or two trying not to look at each other so as not to crack up. To distract myself, I studied the people we were seated with as they were introduced to me. Limp handshake. Boring. Balding, conservative tie. Sweaty handshake. Eeww. And here I thought they'd stopped making moustaches like those back in the 80's. Firm handshake, actually quite nice. Long, masculine fingers. Salt and pepper hair, aging with class. Nice frank eyes. Great enveloping handshake. Huge, meaty hand. And a cowboy hat? Fer Chrissakes, who wears a wide-brimmed Stetson to a chic restaurant??? Bet stuffy Maitre d' pursed his lips at that one! Small, determined handshake. Delicate wrist, warm fingers, sending tingles down my arm. Tearing my eyes from Mr Texas-Rich-Shot, my jaw literally dropped. Yee-hah! Ride 'em cowgirl! Ha! Ha! Very funny. So now the Voice was into humour. I ignored it, as I also ignored the sudden tightness at my crotch. The only woman at our table, except for Angie, she sure was something else. She was Important Somebody's daughter and boy was she hot. Gorgeous figure, probably somewhere around 25, a real woman. She had a mischievous rebel look about her, crackling with life. Sparkly oversized jewellery, wearing some hot slinky red slip of a dress. I fought down a sudden impulse to rub my cheeks against the silky fabric. Smallish breasts, gently rounded. I couldn't see a bra strap and so decided that they must be pretty firm. The tension at my groin increased and I guiltily brought my gaze again to her face. Caught! She'd been watching me staring at her cleavage! My ears burned and I frantically tried to come up with something to say. She winked then pointedly gawked at my crotch. My ears flamed even more and I vainly tried to wish my erection away. Not wanting to look down and see for myself just how obvious it was, I found myself staring at her chest again. Mesmerized, I watched the fabric shift a little, small hard points appearing where her nipples would be. Lord. Definitely no bra then. My cock twitched insistently and I groaned, defeated. Proud of herself, she stared straight into my eyes for a second, a jaunty defiance about her that set my blood boiling. "Do you like my dress?" she asked Chris. "Your friend sure does!" Evil, she was evil. Chris was laughing at me, apparently he'd seen the whole thing and then mercifully, we were sitting down. I winced. This was definitely painful, but at least I wouldn't be creating a scandal. I licked dry lips, trying to find my voice. Of course, I had to be sitting between Chris and Jessica, as I learned my new tormentor was called. Dinner was a haze. Almost immediately, Chris, Jessie and I fell into a teasing, flirting conversation that flowed real easy. It kept me on my toes, trying to retort with the perfect comeback. I managed pretty well, I think, considering that I was alternating between a raging hard-on and a leaky plumpness that was almost worst. The sexual undertones of the seemingly innocent discussions really weren't helping my concentration. It was magical, all three of us affected by this vibrating energy that was absolutely divine torture. It was all subtle insinuation and apparently innocent touches. Except that every move was planned to break the other, a war of wills, seeing who would quit first or go overboard and be too flagrantly sexual. By dessert, there was absolutely nothing naive in every comment, every subtle contact. I knew and she knew I knew and that was why it was so hot. I was holding out, but just barely. Surprisingly, Chris was in on the game too. I could tell the fires were burning in him again and there were twin spots of bright red on his cheekbones. He kept pushing at his hair, a nervous gesture that I'd come to associate with him trying to regain control of himself. It was so hot, seeing him fighting with his desire, I had a hard time pretending no interest in him. Although I tried not to, well not very much, I couldn't help playing him just a little. There was an awareness between us that I fervently hoped Jessica didn't catch. Oh! Oh! Oh! If you can't be useful, just shut the fuck up, I told my irritating Inner Voice. By this time, I was so horny that it wasn't even being sarcastic anymore. The Voice was mainly blathering dirty ideas, interspersed with panting and swearing. Feigning nonchalance, I watched Jessica closely. Even if she wore too much make-up, I noticed definite signs of arousal in her countenance after nearly two hours of this dangerous game. It turned her on to know how she was affecting us and her own need was starting to wear on her control. Her eyes, dark and smudged, sparkled with lust. Her lips were lush, painted a harsh crimson that didn't manage to hide their softness. They were half-parted with halted breaths and just begging for a kiss. I had to physically restrain myself from nuzzling into her neck every time she leaned over me to talk to Chris. Encouraged, she did it more and more as the meal wore on. Pushing me, remorseless, but I wouldn't give in. Fuming, I clenched my jaw and determined to turn the tables. I needed to do it real soon because my passion was rapidly growing intolerably acute. Let's see how her control is. Damn right, Mr Voice. This was a game two could play. The next time she bent nearer, I blew gently on her exposed nape. She shivered. I waited, and then did it again. She blinked and stiffened, glaring at me from the side of her lashes. Her perfume, rich and sensual, was driving me nuts. I could see her nipples again, pushing at her dress. I longed to pinch one between two fingers. Wonder what kind of sound she would make? No! The Voice was right. I had to focus. Just a little more. She was losing ground; there was a sobbing quality to her breathing that bordered on moaning. I slowly and deliberately blew a stream of warm air over her sensitive skin, casually watching the goose bumps rise and spread. Jessica groaned and shuddered, then straightened, flushed. She took a slow careful sip of wine and I watched her throat work, wanting it on my throbbing prick. Yes Yes Yes! My inner voice had begun a silent cheer of triumph. I felt certain that she wouldn't be trying the leaning over technique anytime soon. I am the strongest! I am the best! I am ... The elation in my head spluttered out, drowned in a major flare-up of desire. Chris. I'd forgotten him momentarily. Big mistake. Since Jessie was keeping to her side, Chris was taking over her dirty trick of leaning across me. Actually, he twisted his upper body toward Jessica but under the table, he was pressing the entire length of his thigh against mine. I jolted but held my seat, sweating. Maybe that was unintentional. Yeah right. He seemed engrossed in a lengthy exchange with Jess, but I could tell that it was a facade. They were both watching me from the corner of their eyes. When I tried to shift my leg away, he just pressed forward. Damn. When I tried to escape by leaning to the other side even more, I felt a softer thigh, just as hot, searing through me on the right. Oh Jesus. I was trapped. Well and truly trapped. Electricity began to zing through me, arcing from one to the other, my body the conductor. Swallowing hard, I steeled myself to maintain a blank expression. Time stretched and I lost focus of the room, everything blurring but the rising tide of energy pulsing through our trio. Chris and Jess were as rapt as me. Together, we had created this situation and now it was snowballing out of our control. They were no longer managing to fake a conversation, both panting as rapidly as myself, wide-eyed. Huge quantities of energy mirrored back and forth between us, building like steam in a pressure cooker. The strain surged greater even than the physical soreness in my penis, scalding desire, and the pressure agonizing -ugh- I couldn't take it, too much! Clutching the edge of the table trying to anchor myself, white knuckled, Christ it was so strong! I couldn't seem to move, frozen in place by the sheer exhilarating intensity... My cock screamed for release, my entire lower belly roiling with need. And still it built, the tension, strong, so strong, Chhriss ,something had to give; it couldn't go on, it just couldn't, yet still it did. Oh Lord! JJeesss, please, silently pleading. I'd never felt it this powerful, a huge iron band coiling unbearably, deep inside me, tighter, tighter... Sudden copper taste of blood in my mouth from biting through my lower lip, the sharp sting just melding into the devastating rush, higher higher high- CRRAAASSSHH! A mighty resounding sound of broken dishes and cutlery landing on tile is what saved us. We jumped, all three of us, separating. I still don't know what would have happened if that waiter hadn't missed a step. As it was, I spent the next few minutes gradually calming my gasping, slowing my erratic heart rate to near-normal speeds, progressively coming down from that dizzying height. God Almighty. My Inner Voice was present but it seemed incapable of forming a coherent comment, groaning softly in some dark corner of my mind. Nursing my bruised lip, I savoured the sweet ache left behind after... whatever freak experience that was. Then it was all bustle about because we had to leave and I hurried into my coat, not even attempting to button up cause my hands were still trembling way too bad. Somehow, I found the presence of mind to help a dazed and visibly shaken Jessica into her own wrap. Then I realized that Chris was still sitting, unmoving. "What just happened?" he asked me hoarsely when I tugged his shoulder. "I dunno. But it was huge and amazing and it was the first time I ever felt it and we have to go man." Okay so maybe I was still a little buzzed; I could practically see the nervous energy pouring off me. Long silence, then he manifestly shook himself. Raking a hand through his hair, he looked at me with a wistful expression before confessing "I'm not even sure I can walk right now..." Aargh! What was he trying to do, candidly admitting something like that, get raped by me? To tell the truth, my own pace wasn't all that steady. I was still monstrously erect and there remained a tremor in my thighs and abdomen from the residual tension that made walking awkward. Movement also caused my stiff leather pants to shift, friction sending teeth grinding jolts of pleasure down the smearing head of my poor engorged dick. Again, the sleety biting weather. I almost wished I could spend a few more minutes out there, let the wild climate bring me back to my senses. I wasn't really paying attention to where Jessica was leading me, distracted by consciousness of her fingers in mine and Chris' hot breath on my shoulder. Then we were crawling into the vast cavern of the limo, neon lights illuminating us in a weird glow. Wait, limo? What about the good ol' van? Mr Important Somebody surely has a limo to lend to his daughter. Yup, that sounded plausible. Glad to see you recovered, I told the Voice. Stony silence answered me. Shit, now I was really going insane, having conversations with myself. If anyone ever found out... The door clacked smartly and shortly after the motor hummed smoothly. Chris, Jessica and I just stared at each other for a breathless minute, and then it was a frenzy of trying to tear our clothes off as fast as possible. Both of us men pounced on Jess but we weren't really accomplishing much. I pushed the hem up, he tugged the straps down and I got a sharp elbow to my sternum, winded but not stopping my attempts. We were just getting into each other's way and were both too primed to stop and plan our attack. I was starting to seriously consider seeing if I could actually tear a dress off like you see in the movies when she batted our fluttering hands away. "Get your pants off, idiots; I can deal with the dress..." Ah, the voice of wisdom. Kneeling in the low interior, I hastily unzipped, sighing in relief as my cock finally bounced free. T-shirt up over my head but still around my elbows, I stopped and stared at the vision before me. Jessica had a really creamy pale complexion, softly flowing. Her breasts were just like I'd imagined, with nipples hard and crinkly. A black G-String, shaved mound and Ooouuh luscious thigh-high stockings. I skimmed a hand quickly up the nearest leg, admiring the smooth transparency and the rougher detail of the elasticized lace at the top. I couldn't help tracing the same route with the tip of my tongue, then biting gently at the dreamy skin of her thigh where it contrasted sharply with the black of the nylon. Pussy!!! Finally! It was right there, inches from my face. Barely covered by the black fabric of her panties and wet. I mean sopping wet. Absolutely beautiful. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment, the anticipation. Insistent hands on my head and then her hips were lifting as she hastily discarded the underwear, guiding me to her with a plaintive little sound of want. She ignited the second my tongue contacted her clit, trashing about with a muffled scream and flooding my face with moisture. "Oh yeah, eat her good, Matt, make her cum again... " Suddenly Chris was there, voice harsh with need, radiating heat. He somehow climbed onto the leather seat, bracing himself against the swaying ceiling and she sank down lower, getting her mouth around his dick. I was going cross-eyed, trying to check him out while still concentrating on Jessie's warm folds. Stroking myself one-handed, I let myself absorb the almost surreally beautiful scene. Jess and Chris, together over me, a study of contrasts in the flickering lights of the street passing by. Her soft paleness, velvety smooth. His taut muscles, all golden. Small delicate fingers with red lacquered nails gripping his flexing ass. Long strong musician ones, toying with a nipple before stroking the side of her face near where she was sucking him. Both making primal sounds of arousal, different pitches yet so alike. Look, look! She's going to cum again... Pushing my index into her boiling velvety depths, aiming up and forward, there - feeling her pussy clamp down hard, squeezing in waves. She shrieked, yanking Chris' dick from her mouth (probably so she didn't bite it off), eyes glassy, face scrunching up tight before going slack. Chris glared at me through narrowed eyes, grunting. He'd been close. Slowly, gently licking all around Jessica's lips to soothe her down, I finally got a good look at his cock. It was gorgeous, thick and straight, with a sharply flared head. Shining with pre-cum and saliva, it was scorched an angry red almost to mid-shaft. He'd been really close. I longed to swallow him down and finish him off but controlled myself. Judging by the distressed look on his face, I don't think he would have resisted much if I had, but I didn't want Jess seeing something he might regret later. Then our lady revived, ending my hesitation. Moving with renewed energy, she literally inhaled Chris. His head lolled back, mouth open in mute ecstasy. The sounds of Jess' slurping were indecent enough to give me shivers and it took me a moment to recuperate enough to start on her again. Lust Burning Ch. 02 Chris was going to get off now, it was pretty clear. After all that build up, he was in the final stretch. Face transfigured, he began making tiny little thrusting movements with his hips, muscles rippling. Holding my breath, I watched him in awe. His balls were terribly tight, almost disappearing around the base of his shaft, only a few inches from Jessie's blood-red lips. I could see instinct taking over, how badly he wanted to jam himself down her throat, but he was somehow managing to hold back. With an obvious effort, he removed his clenching fists from her head, trying not to choke her. I was completely unprepared when his eyes shot open, dark dark, and bored straight into me. With an incoherent moan, he curled his fingers into my hair, grinding my face hard into Jessie's cunt. I vaguely saw him arch and spasm, felt Jessica quiver again, before the orgasm that was suddenly overpowering me obscured my sight. There was no building, no warning. One second I was aroused as hell, like I'd been all evening, the next he touched me and I was erupting, burning hot semen shooting all over the limo floor and my clenching hand. It was a really strong release, not surprising considering how long we'd been pushing towards it. Spasm after spasm shook me. Nerve endings everywhere in my body sparked randomly. I was hot, I was cold, I was twitching yet I was still as death. It took quite a while for me to be capable of focusing on my surroundings again. The vibrating of the motor coming through the cold floor to my knees registered first, followed by a sharp turn that threw me off balance. I didn't go very far, because Chris was still tightly clutching my curls. I yelped a little as my neck yanked, the sweet tugging causing my spent penis to twitch a final time. Mercifully, Chris' grip loosened and we all just sort of slumped, recovering. "Well..." Her voice cracking, Jess halted, licked her smeared lipstick and cleared her throat. "I... that was... I mean..." she trailed off. "Well..." she finished helplessly. "I agree. Well...I think the word describes the evening so far quite nicely." Apparently, even half dead, I can still be a smart-ass. Instinct I guess. Chris made some kind of exhausted rumble and cracked a smile. He was still bathing in the after-glow, his features serene yet somehow intense. After another timeless stretch of time, I became aware of my spunk starting to grow cold and runny between my fingers. "Um, Jess" I began, feeling my face flame. "Does this limo thing come with, like, Kleenex or something?" I was feeling pretty stupid and embarrassed, don't ask me why, after all we'd just done. "Matty, you're so cute, all red like that!" she taunted. "Now, let me see if I can find some..." Like I said before, evil. She finally relented and tossed me a box, which I missed, obviously. You try catching a box while kneeling on the floor of a rolling limo, one handed, and gripping your slippery prick with the other, trying not to make too much of a mess. There was absolutely no reason for both Chris and Jess to laugh at me like that. Jerks. Yeah, but really hot sexy jerks that you just had amazing sex with. I nodded, agreeing with my Inner Voice for once. Then I stuck my tongue out at them, because I'm sooo much more mature. Inside though, I was drowning in a sea of possibilities for the second time that day. I hadn't properly been able to decide just what I wanted with Chris. Now I had a hot chick to add to the equation. My reasoning was even foggier than before. Whatever happened, it was sure to be sizzling. Oh yeah, baby. Go with the flow. There'd be time for questionings later. My Inner Voice agreed and chimed on, repeating its line from earlier: This is going to be a killer show tonight. And after... Yeah, after. Lust Burning He tasted like mint toothpaste and was wonderfully responsive, tongues battling, our lips crushing together in rising violence. I became aware of our entire bodies, of his hard length pressing urgently against my belly. I am shorter and without thinking shifted his muscular thigh between my legs, pushing him back against the counter. He answered by running his hands all over my back and ass, French-kissing me even more fiercely. Instinctively I began to grind against the steel of his thigh. The pressure that had been building for two weeks roared up in me, darkness crashing through my sight. Despite the clothing separating us, the unforgiving tightness of denim around my trapped cock, I was getting close. Real close. Growling I pressed our upper-bodies together, desperate to feel as much of him against me as possible. My hips wouldn't, couldn't stop shamelessly grinding against him and the friction only increased when my knees gave out. Straddling him, I felt his strong arms surround me, holding me up, clutching me closer. Our lips finally parted and I chewed on the muscle joining his neck to his shoulder, whimpering as my orgasm continued to loom impossibly nearer. God I hadn't got off this way since I was a teenager, electric shocks from every contact point, Mmmm, so good… what was he going to think, me moving like a slutty dancer against him hyperventilating but I couldn't stop, not even for a minute to let him get his hand properly around my shaft and Oh! Now his fingers were in my hair and how did he know? maybe he wouldn't … AArgh! Fuck. Of course he did, twisting so tight, couldn't breathe now, tugging the fine hairs at the nape of my head, couldn't think -was that me making those noises? Shit Shit Shit I had to... I couldn't... Oh! Oh! Oh! Oooh! Pure liquid fire roared through me from head to toe as I lost myself completely to my orgasm. I shuddered and jerked, feeling him shiver as my teeth clamped down hard at the base of his neck. The spasms of release were so strong as to be nearly painful, the change in sensation caused by the sudden slickness setting me off again in a series of convulsive aftershocks. For a long long moment I just floated, finally relieved of two weeks, no, make that six months worth of pent-up lust. Gradually coming back to my senses, the enormity of what I'd just done suddenly crashed down on me. Doubt. Insecurities, terrifying memories of a similar time surged through me. Goddamn if I've ruined the band I'll never forgive myself. In that vulnerable moment just after orgasm, I found myself blinking against scalding tears. My throat hurt, like I was choking on my fears. I was lost in a fog of pain, past and present mingling into one long silent wail of grief in my head. A touch on my shoulder, soft, caressing. Chris. Who I'd just made out with until I shot in my pants. Exhilarating. Except that he isn't into men. Lord I felt horrible, like some monster who betrays the trust of his princess for his own satisfaction. Overwhelmed with disgust for myself, I couldn't even bring myself to look at him. Tugging. His strong fingers were back in my hair, angling my head towards his face. Moaning I didn't have a choice but to obey. Bastard. He'd found one of my major weak spots and he was shamelessly using it. I just can not resist a firm grip tightening into the hairs just above my neck. It shoots fire straight to my groin and my knees buckle. All my thought processes shut down and I become a quivering mass of need. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry Oh God I'm so sorry… " It was like a litany escaping my lips, easy as breathing. "Please I'm sorry sorry." My voice cracked and I couldn't say it aloud anymore, but the words still rang in my head. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sor- Chris's lips gently playing over my face finally broke through the haze. "Sshh. It's alright baby." He wasn't mad. Butterfly kisses, brushing me again and again. He wasn't mad. Crooning soft soothing nothings into my ear. He wasn't mad. My mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around the concept. Cringing, I finally brought myself to look into his eyes. They were shining with wonder, like a kid at Christmas. Bright, Bright, his features were peaceful. Not angry. "God, I never knew… "He began, then trailed off. "I'm sorry, "I whispered softly. "I kinda got that part, "he said, with a chuckle. Looking at me sideways, his eyes sparkled with sudden mirth. His lips quirked and I found myself grinning back. Like a bubble rising in champagne the laughter built until we were both roaring with it. It felt so good. He wasn't mad!!! Inside, I was dancing with elation. I'd kissed Chris and he wasn't mad! I wanted to whoop and shout, to run naked down the street or stand on my head. It was finally sinking in. He wasn't mad!!!! Rocks emerging from the shower and looking at us lunatics just set us off again. Finally calming enough that only a convulsive chortle sometimes shook us, Chris squeezed by me heading back to the room. And for a few brief seconds, his semi-soft cock was pressed right into my palm. That was no accident. I could clearly feel the weight of it under the scratchy texture of the towel. The very wet, sticky towel. Oh My. Bringing my hand to my face, I sniffed, trying to confirm my suspicions. Yup, along with the chemical smell of detergent, there was musk. A heady, male scent of sex. Chris had cum too! Halfway into the room, he turned and our eyes met again. He looked smug, a little what-are-you-going-to-do-now look that confirmed my doubts. What the hell, might as well give a little payback. Looking straight at him with my most sexy bedroom eyes, I slowly licked the palm of my hand, from my wrist to my middle finger. I ended by sucking it into my mouth up to the second knuckle, hollowing my cheeks. He actually shuddered and Oh man, the look on his face! Pushing past his shocked form, I busied myself with my bag. Looks like I'll be wearing the leather after all, commando style, cause my underwear are trashed. This is going to be a killer show tonight. And after… the Voice in my head added enthusiastically. Yeah, after.