4 comments/ 13135 views/ 6 favorites The Reading By: YourLittleAngelle Smoke from the sandalwood incense swirled toward the ceiling like sooty, unfurling serpents. Her golden bracelets jingled subtly as she shuffled the cards. They were the only other sound in the stuffy tent aside from his anxious breath. Outside, the occasional roar of a roller-coaster, accompanied by the delighted shrieks of the passengers, vied for the ear's attention as the barkers enticed passers by to "Win a bear for the lady, sir!" or "Let me guess your age. You! Ma'am! I bet I can guess your exact age! Right this way!" He was a handsome young man of moderate means. His father and mother had worked in academia and brought him up well . A fine education, family vacations to all the prime resorts and getaways, and all the intelligent discussion he could ask for ever since he could remember. But he had a love for that which couldn't always be explained. Novels on the occult, horror stories that made his skin crawl, and the simple thrill of indulging in activities such as a tarot reading could bring a smile to his skeptical heart once and again. So, when he read of the coming carnival, he and his college friends decided to blow off summer classes and get lost in the spangled spectacle of the rides and treats. The gilded stitch-work of stars, swirls, and roses surrounding her name had caught his eye at first glance: "Lilianne, Seer of the Soul's Path." A portly gentleman had been standing outside her beautifully antique-looking tent, his broad-brimmed hat sheltering a pinkish face that looked drawn and exhausted. The sticky fragrance of funnel cakes had filled his nostrils, combined with more subtle hints of perspiration and sheer, tacky, greasy notes as he paused. His friends still lagged behind at a corner gathering of Midway games. "How much?" he had inquired, already digging about in his pockets for the thick bundle of crimson tickets. "Fifteen tickets and Lilianne will consult the cards for your fate, sir." The worn barker perked up at the approach and interest of the latest mark. His well-tended linen suit glowing ethereally in the hazy August afternoon light. "Sure," the young man nodded agreeably, rapidly flipping through the banded stack to peel off fifteen, handing them to the elderly man whose pale blue eyes sparkled with good humor. "Thank you, sir. Right this way," he had invited, sweeping one thick arm toward the tied-back flap of the tent. The shadowy depths within were too dark to allow the young man to see who lurked just inside. He stepped into the smoky shadows and squinted. His eyes strained to become adjusted to the dark. The muffled revelry of the carnival outside these thick canvas walls lulled him slightly as he glimpsed a battered wooden chair before him. Clutching the ladder-back for support, he sat down. She was not what he had expected. She had been nothing like what he had presumed her to be when his mind conjured up the stereotypical carnival fortune-teller. Instead of a rotund, graying older woman of unknown origin, his eyes beheld one of the most beautiful and exotic creatures he had ever seen. The mysterious Lilianne appeared to exist in a separate dimension from the one where the rest of the world struggled or thrived. Her complexion was a combination of golden and creamy, as of milk kissed with honey, and it gave her an unusual radiance and appeal. Her hair was deepest chocolate, and the bittersweet tresses were pulled back to glossy smoothness by a perfectly neat French braid. Delicate diamond studs pierced her succulent little earlobes. Her features were fine and aristocratic. She had great, almost tawny eyes fringed with long, sweeping, luxuriant lashes; a fine, small, straight nose; beautifully sculpted cheekbones; and small, full lips darkened with rouge. And, clinging to her like a floral aura, was the most delicious perfume of dewy tea-rose and a heady blend of mysterious spices. "Please make yourself comfortable." She greeted him in a baby-soft voice. Her immense, jewel-like eyes met his with the briefness and intensity of a tigress before she looked down to the small round table before her. "Would you prefer I read your palm, or that I perform a reading of the cards?" "Ummmm..." He shifted nervously, swinging himself around to deposit himself tensely in the chair before her. Her beauty was nearly incapacitating at so short a distance. And she, as if knowing his trepidation, reached out with one delicate, petal-soft hand to touch the back of his exposed right wrist, just below the mellow glimmer of his watch, in a gentle and calming gesture. "You'll have to relax, sir," she offered a warm smile as her fingertips lingered on the smooth flesh. He inhaled a long, tremulous breath as his eyes met hers again, her expression one of earnestness. "It will be difficult for us to get an accurate reading if your mind is clouded." "Oh. Sorry. It's been a while since I've had my cards read." Lilianne smiled sympathetically, and leaned back to retrieve a fraying, dusty, ebony cloth, which she reverently spread across the well-polished tabletop. Her darkly lacquered nails glimmered jewel-like in the soft warmth of the milky afternoon sky. Her eyes flitted up to meet his. She stretched one naked, slender arm over to a nearby shelf to retrieve a hinged rosewood box lined in crimson velvet. "I'm going to shuffle the deck," Lilianne began. His eyes caught a soft gleam of pearly teeth within that succulent little mouth as she spoke. "And, when I'm done, I need you to cut the deck and think of what you'd like to ask the cards. Then, I will shuffle again and you'll need to select ten cards." "All right," the young man nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as a vague memory of this same ritual at a sorority party floated back to him. It was a beer-clouded vision where the only clear images had been those of the pretty girls gathered around in mock fascination as one of the more New Age sisters had brought out her "Tarot in a Box" that she had bought at a department store. A defiant wind whipped at the open tent flap, fluttering it like a bird's wing as a great, gray cloud began to creep in from the western sky. The man outside the tent rose and hobbled around to secure the flap more tightly as a burst of screams and giggles erupted from a ride further down the Midway. Lilianne's hand gently settled over his, bringing him back to the present task. Returning his attention to the table, he reached down, carefully running slightly callused fingertips up along the slightly bent edges of the traditionally illustrated Rider-Waite deck, estimating roughly half the cards, and lifting them, offering his reader a questioning lift of his brows. "Yes. Keep them face down and place them here," she nodded. She reclined slightly so that her small, well-formed breasts strained against the scarlet of her sleeveless blouse as she indicated the area of the cloth immediately to the left of the remaining stack of cards. "Right. Now I'll shuffle them, and you need to think on what you want to know." How soft her hands were. How sweet her smile. And those spellbinding eyes with such luxuriant, long lashes that curled up at the edges... What must it be like to have someone so luscious lying beneath you? Or on top of you, for that matter? All that silken hair kissed with exotic perfume and that golden, enticing flesh... "Are you thinking of your question?" Her voice came just above a whisper as she fanned out the deck with one practiced flick of a couple long, elegant fingers. "Oh, yes, Lilianne: I have a question in mind." With a knowing nod, she offered a tempting smile. "Then let's start drawing cards." The light within the tent grew more feeble, and he paused, hand hovering above the intricately patterned backs of the cards, to glimpse the more abundant gathering of dove gray clouds interspersed with ones of a more slate hue, the wind picking up strength. A discarded plastic bag with the mashed remnants of lilac-colored cotton-candy surfed upon the unseen gust, hurrying off toward parts unknown as people came and went, heedless of the darkening skies. "The three of cups," Lilianne noted, lips pursed slightly in kissable contemplation as he watched her face for the slightest trace of concern regarding his future. "This represents your present state of mind. Your main occupation right now, and cups is the suit of relationships." "Like about a relationship I have right now?" "Not necessarily. It might be a relationship you wish you had." The smile she gave him made his nerves tingle. As if she read his thoughts—which, he knew, must be fairly easy with the way he was all but drooling over her. But how could she expect him to act otherwise? His cock had begun to swell within his jeans from the first moment he beheld her, and it showed no sign of dwindling from her careful scrutiny of his expression. "Draw another card, please," Lilianne invited, narrowing her eyes to cast a fleeting look out at the now uniformly gray skies. The distant rumble of thunder distracted them both as he tentatively slid a second card from the fanned-out deck for her to add to the spread. "The Hanged Man," she observed, arching one fine brow. "This card represents surrender to gain what you desire. Acquiescence for the ability to move forward. Sacrificing control to gain it. It's..." A rather loud burst of thunder made him jump as the light grew more diffuse. Lilianne paused, rising from her chair. Moving around from behind the table, he felt the hem of her flowing, knee-length skirt brush his leg as she moved beside him. She turned on a small accent lamp with a fringed damask shade, and then slipped behind him to peer out through the open flap as fat, weighty drops of rain began to fall from the low clouds. "Nathaniel?" she called to the barker in the suit. "I'm already in the middle of a reading. I'm going to close the flap so the rain doesn't ruin my cards, all right?" "Sure, darlin'!" Nathaniel called back, hurrying across the darkening concrete of the fairground to talk anxiously with a woman running a deep-fried concessions stand. With a muffling of the carnival noise, the hunter green canvas flap settled into place, parting briefly to allow Lilianne in before settling back into its previous position. "Perfect weather for this, isn't it?" The young man grinned, observing her as she made one final stop at an ornate and tarnished brass incense-burner sculpted into the shape of a lanky and sleek dragon. She plucked the remains of one stick and replaced it with another from a plum-colored drawstring bag. She took a match from a book to light the protruding stick, and waved her hand briefly to extinguish the dancing flame. "Does the smoke bother you?" she asked. Her shadow was projected long and feline upon the tent behind her. "I always light a new stick when we have a storm..."—she lowered her eyes as a hint of scarlet crept into her cheek—"...for luck with the weather." "No," he began, inhaling a great breath of the herbal, woody smoke that was considerably more heavily perfumed than its predecessor. His eyes closed. "It doesn't bother me." "All right." She spoke with a matter-of-fact tone as she returned to her seat. The sound of the rain pattered upon the tent roof now competing with his pulse as he felt his mind wandering even further. "Another card," he mused, his pale sapphire eyes meeting with hers as he began to feel very relaxed. His hand lingering over the deck as he inhaled great lungfuls of the pungent, yet lusciously fragranced, smoke. The taste of it was mild, sweet, and somehow pleasant. "Another card," she said almost soundlessly as her hand moved over his. "Just listen to what your heart tells you, James." How did she know his name? The rain drummed steadily now above them, and he felt enveloped by the aura of smoke. Her hand upon his gave off some sort of torrid heat, and her eyes held his gaze in the dim, indirect light as her lips curved in a knowing smile. "How'd you..." His hand rose, a card pinched between forefinger and thumb. Silently, she plucked it from his fingertips and gazed at it with a slow exhalation of breath. "The High Priestess." The card dropped to the table. She held his hand in both of hers, and raised it to her velvet lips. "Waiting. A pause in activity. A lull..." How tight his jeans felt! God, why had he decided against the slacks? The pressure of his cock against the restricting denim was distracting. And she was still holding his hand. A firm press of her lips again, and he shivered. He felt his mind begin to drift. Had she asked him to choose another card? It seemed as if she had... Mechanically—his thoughts wrapped up with her and the ravenousness he felt for her flesh—his free hand dropped to the cards, fumbling and groping for another. A few of the cards fluttered, unheeded, like disoriented tropical birds off the small tabletop to the earth beneath their feet. Her eyes! Such beautiful eyes! "The Fool." Smoke permeated his thoughts, clung to his hair and clothes like an aura as Lilianne stood up, still holding the card he had just withdrawn—though she made no move to add it to the predetermined pattern that had been forming, card by card. Moving around to stand just to his left, her hip brushing against his shoulder, she gazed down at him intently as she folded the card in half . "The Fool?" he managed, feeling feverish and restless. "Going with the flow," Lilianne explained as, with uncanny grace, she swung her left leg over his lap, settling onto his knees, her firm behind resting upon them. He felt a tug at his breast pocket and lowered his gaze to watch as she stuffed the card into it."Moving with the current like a reed in the river." "My God..." he breathed as she encircled his neck with her arms, pressing against him, her lips brushing his ear. "You have a brave soul, James. What a delight it would be to have you." she breathed. One hand reached back to pull the band that held her braid in place. With a toss of her head, her dark tresses tumbled free, unwinding in a silken cascade over his arms as he dared open his eyes to behold her. There was no rain. No hurrying revelers and splashing children. Only their breathing and the mystical smoke potion of the incense as she began to move upon his lap, her eyes closed, her warm fingertips brushing his cheek. "Tell me you desire me, James." With a wiggle, her shirt was withdrawn, and the hot weight of her breasts pressed against his chest. He moaned softly, capturing her in a tight embrace. "I want you, Lilianne. More than anything I've ever wanted... I want you..." The feel of her hands cradling his face brought him round a bit, and he opened his eyes to behold her face as she stood before him. Her features were radiant with carefree desire and framed by her deep mahogany tresses. She pushed her raven skirt down over her hips, revealing a navel pierced with a golden hoop and a closely trimmed dusting of raven pubic hair. Her breasts were high, with small, rose-colored nipples. Her complexion was flawless and luscious. His whirling mind Reality attempted to be snagged the quickly retreating reality of his situation.by his whirling mind . Brief thoughts of Nathaniel, the man who helped Lilianne bring in the marks. His friends who were, no doubt, searching the crowd for him. But, each time these notions tried to cling to his mind, they were ferried away on the billowing clouds of smoke. Tossed aside with Lilianne's few thin, delicate garments. The pressure upon his crotch was easing. Warm, sure fingers were probing. Pulling at his cock. He couldn't bear to open his eyes. Peering through his lashes, he saw her bent over the zipper of his pants, one hand lost between the metal-lined opening, squeezing his throbbing cock. The chair beneath him shuddered slightly as he let out a soft groan, arching his hips. Scent of tea-rose and sandalwood. The feel of her thighs upon him again, her arms slipping about his neck again, and he knew sweet darkness as her mouth closed upon his, her kiss drawing the life and breath from him as the wind drew the water into the clouds. Warmth and wetness pressed against the reddening head of his cock, and he moaned through their kiss as she, with a sharp thrust of her hips, impaled herself upon him, languidly coaxing his tongue into her mouth as she began to ride him with a frantic thrusting of her hips. A breathy moan escaped her as he hungrily devoured kiss after kiss. The chair shuddered beneath them as her body, so unbelievably delicious and tight, made him feel such extremes of pleasure that he thought his heart might stop. "I knew you would come to me today," Lilianne panted in his ear, her nails ten little points of pain against the nape of his neck as his hands sought her hips, forcing her down upon him with more urgency. "In the cards... I saw it in the cards. And I dreamt of you..." A soft moan punctuated her words. "All this week and the last, I saw you in my dreams and I knew your name. Your name was James, and I knew I must have you. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you." "Shhhh," he soothed, covering her face with steamy kisses as he stabbed into the hot, contracting depth of her. "I know, baby. I know." "No..." she moaned painfully and arched her back as her clitoris ground against him. "In my dreams... I saw you in my dreams. I had to blend the incense just right to bring your soul to mine. Just the right herbs and flowers for you, my beautiful James." An earth-shattering crack of thunder moved over the darkened fairground as rain fell in a steady sheet. Families took shelter in concession tents or huddled around canopies as the sky achieved an almost twilight shade. The tent of the tarot reader undisturbed. Sweat misted his brow as she rode him hard, her passion silent save for her frantic breathing and the soft sound of her thighs slamming against his hips as he moaned aloud. "Lilianne... I can't stand it. I'm going to come..." Wrapped about him like the shadows in the tent, she bit at his throat as he gasped, then several seconds of silence passed between them as his cock erupted inside her. Shuddering breaths tore from his lips as he slumped forward, resting his face in the perfumed valley between her breasts. She planted soft kisses in his corn-silken hair. Her soft fingertips lightly rubbed his neck as her heart slowed to a normal rhythm against his cheek. Seconds spun out into what had to be minutes. Eyes closed, he felt himself drowsing in her sure embrace. The steady drumming of rain lulling him. Encouraging his mind to drift as he inhaled the soft rose fragrance she wore, and the more subtle notes of her flesh commingled with the ancient and mysteriously intoxicating perfume of the dwindling incense stick. The heat of her body, of her most feminine parts, only served to entrance him more. His own breathing grew more rhythmic and relaxed. His eyelids grew heavy. Her skin was velvety and inviting. The world shifted. A loud chorus of voices made him jump, and he sat bolt upright, his eyes snapping open. Milky afternoon light poured over the darkly beautiful woman sitting across from him at the table, reflected warmly in her golden bracelets and enigmatic eyes. Lilianne was sweeping the completed tarot formation back into the deck, shuffling it and placing it back into the small wooden box. "The cards say you've got a great future, sir," she beamed meekly, depositing the box on the table to her left. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to read them for you." Shaking his head, he got to his feet, his knees a bit weak, looking down at his clothes. All appeared neat and unrumpled. Confused, he looked again at Lilianne, who offered him a slightly puzzled expression before returning the cards to their previous location on the shelf. The tent was filled only with the heavy sweet scent of funnel cakes and the subtle floral hint of her perfume. The Reading Room Vanessa stretched out her legs under the long wooden table and eyed the entrance to the reading room. She was sitting by herself in a quiet study area separated from the main atrium and the stacks by a shoulder high, dark paneled wall. It was flanked by two open entranceways and the occasional patron passing by would draw her attention each time. Her messenger bag was open on the chair next to her and its contents spread across the tabletop. She wasn't getting as much done as she'd hoped. She thumbed through the pages she'd already read. Three pages. Three! Vanessa looked at her watch and tried to calm her rising anxiety. She'd been by herself for over an hour and managed to read only three pages into chapter four of her statistics textbook. Sets, unions, joins, blah blah blah. She was going to need a healthy dose of self-discipline if she was going to keep up with the demands of graduate school. But she couldn't focus. Instead she found a thousand ways to distract and sabotage her efforts. A new distraction: her legs were cold. The staff always turned up the air conditioning on hot summer afternoons but because the library was so expansive there were always cold corners and hot spots. Vanessa rubbed her hands along her upper thighs to warm them, slipping them under the edge of her sundress. Her legs were soft and she enjoyed the feel of her own flesh against her palms. She clutched her right knee and then relaxed her right hand, dragging her fingers lazily up her thigh. It helped her to relax and she smiled. Her mind drifted to her husband Robert. When they were together he always found a reason to have his hands on her body. Those hands were warm and slightly rough. Less than a week ago on bright and sunny Tuesday morning they had stood in the kitchen of their apartment naked, nibbling on cold leftover pancakes and grinning at each other. He couldn't keep his hands off her and as she reached in the fridge to grab some orange juice he ran the back of his hand from her knee to her inner thigh, twisting his wrist as he met met her sex. He brushed his fingers against her baby soft fine hair. It felt so good when he teased her. Her smile opened to parted lips and she brought her left hand to her face, rubbing her ring finger back and forth across her lower lip, wetting it with her tongue. Her right hand worked against her thigh with a stronger grip, pressing into her skin as she stroked her leg. Robert had looked so good bathed in the Tuesday morning sunlight. It broke through the quirky bubble glass windows of the apartment and illuminated their aroused and imperfect bodies, increasing their appeal. Vanessa slid her hand closer to her wet slit. She brushed the tips of her fingers against her panties and tried to recreate the feeling of Robert's hand. It was never quite the same. The angle, the width of her hand, the motion - something was off. Still, Vanessa had daydreamed her way into an uncomfortable level of arousal and needed to work it out of herself. She slipped her ring finger into her mouth and suckled it as she slide the index finger of her right hand under her panties and lightly tapped her clit. Her breath quickened a bit now. She motioned her finger with a tantalizingly slow rhythm up and down, up and down, the length of her swollen clit. She clenched her Kegel muscles, aching for Robert's cock. A good six inches when erect, it filled her when they made love and their bodies came together. She caught a movement just outside the entranceway furthest from where she was sitting. She pulled her finger out of her mouth and her hand under her panties froze. Her body begged her to continue but she didn't want to risk getting caught. The movement betrayed a patron, close in age to her own, approaching the study area with a stack of job hunting books under his left arm and a Starbucks Frappuccino in his right. "Do you mind if I join you?", he asked. "Need to get away from the drink police; I don't think they pass through here much." He smiled. Vanessa tried to control her breathing as she answered. "No problem." He sat down at the long table on the same side as the entranceway he had come through. He dropped his books with a THUD on the tabletop and his smile widened into a grin. "Sorry", he said. Vanessa dismissed his apology with a wave of her left hand and smiled in return. She was about to speak when he dropped his gaze away from her and onto the book on top of his stack, sliding it onto the desk in front of him. He opened the book and started to read and it was obvious to Vanessa their conversation was over. She turned back to her own reading and wondered if he could possibly notice that her hand was up her skirt. And would he notice if she tried to slip it back out from underneath? She let her hand rest where it lay for the time being, and tried to busy herself with set theory. She didn't make it further than a quarter of the page before she remembered how much it turned her on when Robert would finger her while she tried to concentrate on something else, like a book, or a television show. Putting the energy into progressing one's arousal along and impatiently focusing on the pleasure was standard course but Vanessa had been richly rewarded on those occasions where she focused her mind on a non-sexual task and attempted to ignore the frenzied movements of Robert's hands and mouth between her legs. The harder she worked to stave off the rising pleasure, the deeper the intensity of the pleasure became. When she finally could not hold back the tide of orgasm any longer, but gave into it, it rushed over her with such force that she was left shaking and crying in its wake. Oh God, those types of orgasms felt so good. Her nipples hardened as her thoughts continued along the lines of her and Robert and the way he made her feel. She allowed her right index finger just the slightest of movement against her clit, this time working in delicate circles, tugging gently at her clit as her finger made each rotation. She focused on the words in front of her as she continued to tease her clit. Let us say that an element x in set A is related to an element y in set B if, and only if, x is less than y. Let us use the notation x R y as a shorthand for the sentence "x is related to y". She read the sentence again as she reversed the direction of her finger's rotation and tried to make sense of it. She read the sentence a third time and struggled to block out the visceral pleasure from the contact of her finger against her clitoris. Her panties were moist now as her pussy began to drip. She never had a problem getting wet. Her fingers moved more rapidly, both from the extra lubrication and her rising excitement. Dividing her attention between the book, the conscious effort to finger herself, and the conscious effort to ignore the pleasure from fingering herself was impossible. She was on her tenth rereading of the same line and finding it difficult to control her breathing. Nothing else existed in that moment besides her book, her body, her breathing, and her pleasure. She rubbed herself faster and faster and bit her lip as she bored holes in chapter four with her unwavering stare. Her reading devolved into simply staring at less than y. It was then, just before she was about to dive over the edge, that she felt a hand on her right shoulder. The hand of her fellow patron. It was still cold from where he'd held the Starbucks cup. As the hand touched her shoulder he whispered, "Don't stop, you're so fucking hot.". "I want to feel you finger yourself like this." She couldn't stop if she tried. She closed her eyes and let her hand make wider sweeping frantic motions as she furiously rubbed her clit. She abandoned her attempt to control her breathing and let her breath come in short choppy intervals. His hand slid down her shoulder, under her shirt, and over her bra. He pinched her nipple through the fabric and then rolled it between his thumb and index finger. That was enough to send Vanessa tumbling over the edge and she shuddered as the orgasm rolled over her. He moved his hand up and out from under her shirt and she heard the sound of a chair scraping against the wood floor as he pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. She did not open her eyes. He leaned in and spoke to her softly. "I want you to do that again. This time I am going to do it too. A race of sorts to the finish line." She opened her eyes. He grinned at her, showing off his perfect, straight teeth. He put his left hand on her right knee to reinforce his direct request. He moved his hand up her leg, onto her hip and then over to her right arm that controlled the fingers she still had buried in her panties. He pulled at her arm to indicate he wanted her to free her hand and she did so. He placed his hand over hers feeling the residual wetness of her sex left on them as their fingers touched. He guided her hand to his left leg and then gently up his thigh toward the zipper of his shorts. For a moment Vanessa sat motionless, her hand resting on the patron's upper thigh as she attempted to regain her composure. Did she really just finger herself in front of this man in a public library? Her own nerve stunned her. She and Robert had been talking for months about ways to spice up their sex life, to bring variety and spontaneous pleasure into their midst. Robert had suggested many times that a public sexual encounter would turn them on in ways they'd never experienced before but Vanessa had been doubtful. But here she was, sitting beside this incredibly good looking man and considering her next move. The patron smiled at her encouragingly. She thought of Robert. The patron met her eyes expectantly. She smiled sheepishly in return. It was so easy to be brave when the orgasm was cresting. Now, in the aftermath, her anxiety rose like a wall cutting her off from the pleasure that could be hers. She pushed through her worry, her what if's, her concerns for public appearances. She smoothed her hand over the patron's thigh, petting it. He groaned. His dick was hard and pressed forcefully against the front of his plaid shorts. She moved her fingers closer to the zipper and turned her body to her right to give her the leverage she needed to unbutton the single button atop his zipper. She slid down the zipper, slowly, cautiously, as she rotated her head away from him and toward the entranceway, watching for any would-be passers by. The patron groaned again as his cock fell away from his abdomen through the opening in his shorts. He wore no briefs or boxers. There was nothing now between his (rather large) cock and Vanessa's hands and the tip bobbed against the back of her hands. Vanessa did not look up at her companion. "Touch me", he whispered, with a guttural pleading. "Touch my cock." Vanessa moved her hands away from his zipper and up around both sides of his tanned organ, lifting it with her hands in the process. He was nicely cut, with a large purple vein running along the bottom of his penis. His testicles were taut and not at all uniform. She loved the look of it all. She paused, and simply held his cock in her warm hands for a few moments. "Are we really doing this?", she asked him quietly. "Here, now?" "Please", was his only response. "Please". She let go of his cock and watched, wide-eyed, as it dropped and bounced against his upper thigh. She grabbed at it again, pawing it lightly and bantering it about between her fingers. He smiled. Impatient, he brought his own hands to his crotch and took a firm grip of his hardened member with his left hand. His right hand rested on his right leg. "And now we begin Princess". Vanessa gave no reply. "I want you to slide your fingers back toward your cunt and touch yourself. Touch yourself while I watch and while you watch me jerk off." His voice was strong and commanding and it turned Vanessa on. Still, she watched the entranceway, loosely aware that their sexual game could be interrupted at any time. "Look at me baby", he whispered to her, "look at me." Vanessa turned her head back to the patron and looked him in the eyes. "Good, now touch yourself. I want us to cum together." He began to stroke his cock with slow, controlled movements from the base toward the tip, using just his thumb and index finger to tug the skin as he completed the motion. In turn, Vanessa slid her hand back under her sundress and between her legs, returning to her clitoris. She was still facing him, which was incredibly risky as she could no longer monitor the entranceway. Still, she was sopping wet now and her hands easily slipped over and around her clitoris. She ran her index and forefinger in circles around her clitoris while she watch the patron jerk himself. "Mmmmmm", he moaned quietly as he watched her watching him. "Does it feel good girl? It feels good doesn't it? I want to cum with you." "I want to fuck you girl. I want to feel you writhing beneath me while I shove my dick into your pussy as far as it will go before I pull out and ram you again and again. I want to fuck you so hard you can't think straight." Vanessa soaked in his words and her arousal spiked. She had never engaged in this sort of dirty talk with Robert before and it was a real turn-on. The patron spoke again. "You see me stroking my dick over here? I am stroking it and thinking of you baby. Thinking how much I'd like to tongue your pussy and lick you all over. And just when you're ready to cum, I'd stop, and make you think about whether you truly deserved it. I'd give you a chance to earn your finish by sucking my dick. You're an excellent dick sucker aren't you baby girl?" The man increased the speed of his hand motions and Vanessa noticed the fingers on his right hand were beginning to twitch. Vanessa contemplated his fantasy as she rolled her fingers around and around her clit. She fixated on how it would feel to be deprived of an orgasm at the moment closest to peak as he described. She thought about how it would feel to be offered the barter of orgasm completion for a cock sucking. It felt degrading and sexy all at once. "I want to shove my dick so far down your throat baby. Look down and watch you suck it. Suck it hard. Oh God suck it hard." The patron began to pant. Vanessa was breathing heavy herself and lost in his words. "I'm going to cum baby girl. Oh I am going to cum. I want to cum all over you girl. You'd like that wouldn't you?" His panting increased, as did the speed of his hand motions. Vanessa was nearing the edge herself. The degrading images of being used as this man's oral servant were so damn hot. "I'm going to cum baby. Oh God. Yes, baby. Yes. Yes." As his thick cum shot out from his cock Vanessa gave into her own orgasm and shuddered, moaning lightly. The patron abruptly zipped up his shorts in one fluid motion and turned to speak to Vanessa. He spoke calmly and confidently. "I told you this would be amazing. Thanks for taking a chance and trusting me Vanessa." Vanessa smiled sheepishly again as she looked into Robert's eyes. He was spot-on. This was a lot of fun and she was ready to hear his next fantasy to play out.