1 comments/ 15726 views/ 3 favorites Underground By: DaveDevlin The journey to Zander was hot and humid. The dry, brittle dirt path was warm under Leslie Chang's bare feet as she continued walking under the scorching sun. She glanced up at it briefly in the clear blue skies, its glaring rays beating down on her. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, taking off her glasses and mopping the sweat off her face and neck with a towel. She was a tall Asian woman with a thick, muscular build, having recently entered her thirty-first year of life. Standing completely naked on the trail, she looked down at her arms and legs. Her naturally light brown complexion had gotten even darker due to the fierce sun. She had large, swinging breasts and big black nipples the size of plums. Her vagina was covered by a hairy mass of dark hair. After putting her glasses back on, she drank some water from her bottle and then placed it back in her backpack. Taking a sigh, Leslie resumed her trek through the forest. She encountered other nude humans and creatures on the trail, some friendly, some downright nasty. The latter came in the form of a motorcycle gang of young men wearing Viking helmets and Nazi regalia. They tried to rob her and sexually harassed her, but she single-handedly fought and beat all six of the vicious punks with her combination of martial arts moves and wrestling. They rode off bleeding, suffering numerous broken bones. The leader, a skinny man with a Hitler mustache and haircut, said through bruised, bleeding lips, "You won this time, Lady, but there's gonna be a rematch. You can count on it." She looked him straight in the eye. "Looking forward to it," she replied firmly. Later, she met a pleasant old man on the dirt path who told her she was getting close. Leslie arrived in Zander momentarily. It was a small town comprised of primitive stone buildings and huts. The inhabitants, like her, were also mostly naked. In the town plaza, a farmer's market was held, where merchants not only sold produce and fruit, but other goods. She threaded her way through the busy, crowded area, tempted to stop at the many colorful stalls and tables but knew she had no time. She headed straight to a local tavern. Inside, she pushed her glasses up her nose, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. The place was half full, with alien creatures and humans scattered at different booths. As she approached the counter, she noticed a couple of insect-like aliens giving her hostile stares with their big bug eyes. The bartender gave her a friendly smile. "What can I get for you, Miss?" he asked. She returned the grin. "I'm supposed to meet someone here named Tharus. Do you know him?" He nodded, gesturing his head towards the end of the bar where a short, slender black man with wings stood. Leslie thanked him, walking past the glaring insect creatures without turning her head. The first thing she noticed about Tharus, besides the fact that he was cute and naked, was his huge, long dick. For such a tiny guy, he sure had a big one! She introduced herself. "Nice to meet you." "Likewise," he replied, shaking her hand. "Want a drink?" "Sure." They grabbed a booth in the back. "So, you're my guide to Galen," she said, taking a swig from her goblet. She made a face. Jeez, this stuff is strong! Wonder if it's spiked? "Yep. May I ask why you're after Harion?" She looked silently down into her goblet for a moment. "He killed my boyfriend." "Sorry to hear that." She continued looking into the goblet. "He's an animal and I'm going to get my revenge," she said firmly. "I'd be careful if I were you." She looked at him. "What do you know about him?" Tharus looked furtively around them before saying, "He's a killing machine. He murders innocent people for no reason. Has killed numerous women and children, and has the whole town frightened. He kills for the fun of it, kills out of boredom." He took a drink. "And he's never lost a fight." "Go on." "The authorities caught him once and threw him in the pit." "What's that?" she asked, trying to ignore a loud brawl near the counter. The insect creatures were throwing jabs at a poor human. She thought about intervening but moments later a bunch of uniformed men broke it up. "It's an underground chamber the law owns where they have prisoners fight each other to the death. When a prisoner wins a certain number of matches, he's set free." "How barbaric." "Exactly. Harion always walks out of the pit alive, sometimes with the severed head or limb of his opponent in his hand." She shivered in disgust. "Does he fight women?" Tharus finished his drink. "Oh, yeah. He doesn't discriminate at all. So watch your back." "You have beautiful wings," she said, touching his large, feathery wings admiringly. "Thanks. It always seems to turn the ladies on," Tharus said, smiling flirtatiously. She beamed back at him. "I'd like to be reincarnated into a bird 'cause I always thought it would be a cool thing to fly." They walked barefoot across the town's sandy plaza. The sun was slowly starting to set in the purplish-orange horizon, and the vendors in the marketplace were packing up their merchandise. He nodded. "Yes, the views from up there are simply breathtaking. The mountains, the valleys, the seas, the towns. I can see it all. My friends are very jealous of me," he said, chuckling. "I'll bet." He looked at her. "Ready to go?" "Sure." "Then grab a hold of me tight and we'll be off." Leslie's jaw dropped open. "You're joking, right?" "No, I'm not," he replied seriously. "I'm not exactly petite, as you can see," she said, towering over him. "I know I'm thin as stick, but trust me, I'm very strong. I've carried cows, horses, and big people like you. Believe me, Leslie, and don't be afraid." She continued staring at him in disbelief for a brief moment, then slung her backpack on, and wrapped her muscular arms around him tightly. Her big, sweaty breasts and nipples were pressed hard against his skinny, rib-caged chest. She felt his giant cock rub gently against her left thigh. "Don't get any ideas," she said, smiling slyly. They flew over enormous mountains and lakes on the way to Galen. There was still light in the skies as she turned her head to look down. Farms and trees looked like tiny specks below them. She immediately regretted the action and pressed her face against his chest, holding for her dear life. God, I can't believe I'm going this!! she thought. For the duration of the trip, she never looked down again. When they landed safely in Galen, she sat down on a park bench and took a few deep breaths, her head hung low. He sat next to her. "Are you okay?" She nodded slowly. "As you can see, I'm terrified of heights." "You should have told me before." She looked up and scanned the environment. Galen was a city as opposed to a town, with high, modern skyscrapers and buildings. Spaceships hovered above them in the skies, while down on the asphalt streets, futuristic-looking cars and trucks maneuvered their way across town. Some of the vehicles looked similar to the ones she drove as a cop in New Oakland, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Humans and other creatures entered the city park where they were sitting, and she observed that some of them had clothes on and some didn't. It seemed nudity was slightly more unfashionable here. It was still hot and humid, and she was grateful that she didn't have to wear a tight business suit or a coat. "Where do we go now?" she asked, avoiding the eyes of strangers. "Let's get a room for the night and rest up." They checked in at a small, inconspicuous motel in the downtown area. She took a long, cool shower while Tharus kept watch near the window, looking out occasionally to make sure they weren't followed. The nighttime skies outside were clear and starry. She saw the serious look on his dark face when she walked out of the bathroom, drying her black shoulder length hair with a towel. "Everything okay?" she asked quietly. He turned from the window. "Yeah." He closed the blinds, then went to the bathroom to wash up himself. "You think Harion or his men tailed us?" "I don't think so. I've been tracking our movements carefully and that doesn't seem to be the case." She threw the towel aside and sat down on one of the beds, sighing. "I'm beat," she said, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she studied his wings in admiration again. As he sat on his bed, she approached him slowly, running her fingers gently through his large, feathery wings. He smiled at her flirtatiously, fluttering the wings slowly as she continued caressing and stroking them. She plucked a brown feather from one of his wings and stuck it in her hair, returning a mischievous grin. In the morning, Tharus flew them to a tattoo shop near the waterfront. The place was empty except for a naked human with a purple Mohawk, who was inking the tattoo of a gun on the skinny bicep of a man reclined back in a chair. On the man's forearm was a tattoo of a swastika that looked awfully familiar to Leslie. She stepped closer to the chair and saw that it was young leader of the motorcycle gang she had fought earlier. Who could forget that Hitler-style haircut and mustache? The leader smirked at her. "Ahh, we meet again, Muscle Chick," he said sarcastically. He sat up in the chair when Mohawk was done. The leader was nude except for a black leather vest and black motorcycle boots. He was gaunt and pale, but had a thick, long penis. "Well, well, well, if it ain't Hitler's clone," she replied, returning the sarcasm. "I see your lips have healed a little." "Don't forget that we've got a rematch comin,'" he said, the smirk still on his face. "Oh, I haven't forgotten." The leader looked at Tharus and asked, "Who's the nigger?" Tharus lunged at him, but Leslie pulled him back. "Whoa, easy, boy!" the leader laughed. "My name's Tharus!" he shouted in his face. "Okay, okay, take it easy, will ya?" The leader got up, dropped some bills on the counter, and headed for the door. Before he left, he turned and blew her a kiss. They approached Mohawk at the counter. "Friend of yours?" Leslie asked him, hearing the leader's motorcycle roar to life on the street outside. The loud engine vibrated the windows and floor of the shop, and she wondered if the glass would shatter. Soon, the chopper sped off but could still be heard in the distance. Mohawk rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Sorry about that, Tharus," he said. "No sweat, Johnny," Tharus replied. He made introductions between Johnny and Leslie. "So, what's the word on Harion?" "Well, from what I've heard on the streets, he's in town, man." "Where?" she asked. "Holed down in the abandoned subway tunnels." "Near the stadium?" Mohawk nodded. "Thanks a lot," Tharus said, and they left. Tharus flew them above the giant sports stadium, and finally landed them at the derelict train station when she started hyperventilating again. "You okay?" he asked her. She nodded, taking some deep breaths. They walked along the eerily quiet platform, passing a series of empty, deteriorated trains. She looked inside one of them, seeing a human skeleton. "So you're doing to kill him when we finally find him?" he asked. "Yep." "No questions asked. Just bam, strangle him to death with your bare hands." "Actually, I'm going do it with a knife in my backpack," she said with conviction and determination her voice. "I want him to bleed to death, or better yet, choke on his own blood." "How did he do it? How did he murder your boyfriend?" he asked, looking at her. She suddenly stopped in her tracks, the cold, grimy concrete of the platform beneath her bare feet. He expected her to slap him or perhaps scream at him angrily, but she simply cleared her throat, not looking at him. "He was stabbed to death numerous times," she said quietly. "Killed for no reason whatsoever. I suppose that's another reason why I want to use a knife on Harion, 'cause he used it on Nean." He nodded understandingly. "Harion had come to our farm in the woods," she said, staring ahead into space with glassy eyes. "Nean was making spears and clubs in the tool shed, I was at the outdoor grill, roasting a boar. Moments later, I heard a scuffle, and ran towards the shed. . .but I was too late. . .Harion had already killed him." She shook her head. "It's too bad Nean couldn't reach for one of his spears in time." "What happened then?" Her gaze into space remained unbroken, her hands curled into tight fists. "I chased after Harion but he got away." They continued walking along the platform for several more seconds before going down some stairs to the second level of the station. It was dark underground, with white light filtering through sporadic cracks in the ceiling. Leslie took out a flashlight from her backpack, turned it on, and guided them through the cool, musty tunnel. As they walked further in the darkness, her bare foot landed on something soft, warm, and squishy. Oh, God!! she thought. She didn't want to think about what it was, although she had a pretty good idea of what it might be. She came across some old newspapers and wiped her foot clean of the purple-colored substance. After pushing her glasses up her nose, she pointed the beam of light at a few more human skeletons, as well as the stinking, rotting carcass of some creature. Large rats ripped off chunks of its flesh hungrily. Leslie and Tharus quickly walked away. The rest of the second level was empty, so they continued down the stairs to the third one where they discovered more derelict trains. "I hear there are numerous subway levels below the earth, extending for miles," he said. "Consisting of hundreds of subterranean tunnels and passageways, even cities." "What aren't they in use anymore?" "After the big war, they built a more reliable, faster rail system above ground." He gestured to their surroundings, shaking his head. "Such a waste, though. Now the homeless, criminals, and rats call this their home." Cobwebs and dust festooned the interior of one train. She pointed her flashlight beam at spray-painted graffiti on the walls and at a vandalized snack machine, moldy candy bars still intact behind the shattered glass. She shined the light inside the empty station agent's booth, where a yellowed, curled newspaper lied on a desk. Tharus picked up some faded tickets near a machine, studying them curiously under a beam of light that filtered through a crack in the ceiling. He tossed the tickets on the ground and said, "C'mon, let's keep moving." The sound of slowly dripping water greeted them when they descended to the sixth level. They found nothing significant on the fourth and fifth ones. When she entered the women's restroom, she discovered the source of the noise. Single drops of water continuously fell from a hole in the ceiling to a toilet bowl. She sniffed the air, noticing the strong smell of urine. "Someone's been here recently." She went to a sink and turned on the water, surprised it still worked. After splashing her face with some water, they resumed their search. A cool draft came from one of the tunnels, blowing back her dark shoulder length hair. "That feels so good," she said, going down a ladder from the platform to the tracks. He followed her into the darkness of the tunnel, feeling the draft grow stronger. She sniffed the air again, smelling urine once more. They tried to pursue the origin of the odor, her light showing fresh traces of a yellowish liquid on the concrete near the tracks. The urine became more intermittent as they advanced forward, and finally ended near a ladder. They descended to the seventh level. To their left were subway tracks that led into a black abyss. To the right was another tunnel, not for trains but more around the size of a hallway in a building. "Wanna flip a coin?" Leslie asked jokingly. He pointed to the tunnel and she shrugged, leading the way. "I hope you remember the way back to the surface," she said. "I hope your flashlight doesn't die on us," he replied anxiously. They followed the yellowish light to a three-way fork. Three more dark and ominous tunnels. This time the decision was easier as they took the passageway on the far right because it emitted the stench of urine. Her nose wrinkled as they pressed forward. Suddenly, the loud, vibrating roar of a motorcycle engine sparked to life, echoing wildly in the tunnel. She felt the ground pulsating beneath her feet and said, "Oh, no! Not again." The noise was coming from all around them, disorienting them. Then, without warning, the chopper's light flicked on, and they saw it rumbling towards them. Two other motorcycles followed, amplifying the sound level to an all-time deafening high. They covered their ears with their hands but it was useless. Seconds later, the first motorcycle screeched to a stop before them, and sitting behind the handlebars was the leader with the Hitler haircut and mustache. A wide smirk was on his face. * * * "Well, if it ain't the Muscle Chick," the leader said sarcastically. "Care for a ride on my back?" She and Tharus started running in the other direction, and the choppers chased after them. The leader aimed a gun at them and shot out a large net that covered them completely. Leslie and Tharus wildly tried to claw and kick their way out but it was futile. The leader and his men approached them with clubs, pounding them both on the back of the head. Leslie felt everything go to black and collapsed face down on the ground. She woke up with a huge headache later, finding herself lying on a bed covered with a bear fur blanket. The windowless room she was in was enclosed by four concrete walls, reminding her of a prison cell. A single metal door was across the room. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and her ankles bound together with rope. Whenever she turned her head or tried to sit up, everything swirled fuzzily around her. She was surprised her glasses were still perched over her nose, free of damage. How long have I been out? Where's Tharus? She pushed herself to sit up despite the fact that the swirling motion made her headache worse and made her want to puke. Her big bare feet touched the cold concrete, and when she attempted to get up she felt like her brain was going to literally explode. After a few tries, she stood up slowly. Abruptly, the metal door swung open and the leader and the man that she was going to kill, stepped in. Harion was taller than the leader, and looked like he had been chiseled from stone. He had a shaved head and was naked as well, his enormous dick just inches away from her vagina. His steel blue eyes stared lustfully at her genitals and large brown breasts. He stuck his tongue out at her lecherously and licked her black, plum-sized nipples with it. She closed her eyes painfully. He stepped out of the way to let the leader suck her nipples for a while. Before he pulled his mouth away, he bit one of her nipples and she screamed. The leader laughed devilishly. "So we meet again," Harion said simply. "Where's Tharus?" she demanded. "Where he can't bother us," he replied with a chuckle. The leader laughed again. "I should've finished you the same day I killed your Neanderthal boyfriend. But that would've been a waste 'cause we wouldn't have the privacy that we have now," he said, smiling slyly. The leader gave her a lewd smirk. Underground Don and Julia were into drain sloshing. They had mapped out their city's drains and could travel downtown from their suburb through the storm system. They did this on Friday nights. They'd get all decked out: Don in ninja black and Julia in her pink rubber boots, fishnets and a hoodie to keep the spiders out of her hair. Don always sloshed first looking out for dangers and alerting Julia to the whereabouts of big spiders. The uniqueness of each drain is fascinating. Some common ones are covered with graffiti, some have steps made of concrete to maneuver around waterfalls and some even have widened rooms. It was in one of these rooms, on a hot summer day, that Julia got a very exciting idea. She asked Don to stop. When he turned around to see why and aimed his spotlight at her, she lifted her short pleated skirt, pulled her fishnets down below her waist and leaned into the wall with her hands above her feeling the cool, dewy concrete. Don caressed Julia's body with his flashlight beam. Her newly shaved, self lubricated pussy glistened as the beam of light passed by it. At the sight of such a welcoming shimmer, Don moved in. Normally he would have spent some time preparing Julie for their act of love, but this time she was clearly raring to go. He turned off his flashlight, put it in his backpack, crouched down, moved between her spread legs, and gave her a quick, loving, sensual kiss on her pierced upper labia. Then he stood behind her holding her hips firmly in his strong hands. He rubbed his cock between her pulsing lips. The lips hugged around him, warm and wet. Julia loved it when he did this. He was such a tease. He would slide up, his head rubbing against her clit, and then slide back pausing at her opening and making her crave his thrust inside. He continued this routine until Julia's whimpers begged him to a point that he couldn't resist. He thrust into her now sopping cunt. Julia arched her back and moaned with satisfaction. She reached back and pulled him in tight, encouraging him to thrust far into her depths. Their rhythmic slapping sound echoed through the damp darkness. With the plan to take things up a notch, Don stepped back and pulled up his combat pants. He lifted Julia like a potato sack over his shoulder and sloshed down the drain towards one of the manhole exits. With her bare bum facing forward, she was excited by the cool breeze kissing her skin as they moved through the tunnel. As they traveled, Don caressed Julia's exposed skin and delved in and around her drenched, bald slit occasionally thrilling her with a soft pass over her anus. As they came upon the manhole, Don gave Julia's bum a hearty slap. He lifted her off his shoulder and onto the metal ladder. She gripped on to the rails and put her cute little girl rubber boots onto a rung so that she was positioned tightly scrunched with her round bum sticking out at Don's waist level. He drove upward into her. This was a new angle that they had not yet been able to achieve in the comfort of their home. It animated them both. Julia began bouncing up and down on Don's rod. Don polished Julia's firm, round cheek with one hand and with the other he thumbed her ring from above. It was only when things were wild that Julia longed for his cock in her tight ass. This was one of those times. She lifted off, repositioned him and guided him through her backdoor slow and steady. She lowered all the way down until he was deep inside her. Her ring clung to him. She moved up and down nice and slow for some time until it felt comfortable. Her pussy dripped out of longing, it ached for him...a feeling that she adored. The juices dribbled onto Don's cock every time he was out of the safety of her ass. This allowed for a sleek slide back in. With the addition of lube, Julia found it easy to bop up and down at a faster pace. Don spread Julia's cheeks apart as she rode up and down faster and faster. She would ride up to the tip of his head and slam down until she felt the smack of her ass tight against his pubis. Over and over. Don was losing control. He couldn't hold off much longer. He reached around to get Julia to the same point, but found her hand was already quickly working her swollen soaked clit. He could tell she was close by the speed and veracity of her handiwork. He returned his hands to spreading her ass so that her hole was strained and taut. The stretched feeling drove her over the edge. She screamed out, her clit, pussy, and ass pulsed in unison. Don thrust deep inside and held there as her ass milked his cock dry. Underground Three-thirty-seven was an odd time for a rendezvous, but Clare wasn't going to argue. She stood awkwardly by the subway entrance, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and her heavy bag--only one allowed--from shoulder to shoulder. Although designed for comfort, the nylon straps were straining with the weight of all she'd packed. She checked her watch again, and scanned the busy street anxiously for what felt like the millionth time. Clare spotted him, finally, at the street corner, buying a coffee and a hotdog from the vendor as if he had all the time in the world. "Were you waiting long?" Ian asked, languidly, taking large bites of his lunch. "Ian, you yourself said I shouldn't be conspicuous, and I've been waiting on this corner for ten minutes!" She exploded. He balled up his paper tray and carefully tossed it in a nearby trashcan, and then slowly sipped on his coffee. "It's not my fault you came early." He led the way down the subway stairs and she followed, still angry. "I am a fan of your work," he offered her, as they hustled through the station underground. "Every Monday, I read your column in the Chronicle." The praise made her annoyance abate, slightly. Clare kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. "That's why I wasn't surprised to get your message. In fact, I wondered why you waited this long." "I didn't think.....I had no idea that what I said....would cause so much trouble." "Cut the shit, Clare," Ian laughed. "Two years' worth of incendiary and investigative columns about our president and his Establishment and you didn't think that it would get you in trouble?" Clare blushed, grateful that he would not see in their gloomy surroundings. Freedom of the press had been quietly and quickly dying for the past number of years, and many of her colleagues who chose to write against the political Establishment had been just as quietly and quickly disappearing. An anonymous tip had encouraged her to see the services of Ian, to go into hiding, as she might be next. "You can still write," Ian said, "and I'll make sure that your columns get printed. You can make lists of anything you want--food, clothes, books--and I'll see that you get them. Somethings, that might be 'tells', may take longer to get to you, because we don't want a trail, but you'll basically have all the comforts of home." They were riding now, getting on and off at stops, zigzagging through stations and back on again in some kind of maniacal relay race. Clare felt dizzy and confused. "How can I pay you? The emails never said," Ian looked over at Clare and gave a long pause. "We can discuss that once we reach your place." Clare was going to be living in some corner of a basement, and she had no idea where. The whole place had been divided into apartments, arranged so she might never know her neighbors. "Pain in the ass, I know," Ian said, apologetically, "But it's better than being dead." She had one tiny closet for sleeping, one tiny closet for eating and cooking, and one tiny closet fixed up as a bathroom. "You'll only get plumbing for certain times of the day," Ian said. No internet. No phone. Ian would be her only connection to the world--he and his associates. Ian had an elaborate system set up--associates would come by with food, or dvds. Or just to talk so she wouldn't go crazy. He'd come by to pick up her copy, handwritten, if she wanted to keep writing. "But I have no money now, no job." Clare said anxiously. "How can I pay you?" They were seated side by side on a threadbare couch crammed into where she would sleep. Ian reached over and ran a finger down the side of her face. "I can think of a way," he said softly. Clare recoiled. Ian was good looking, perfectly nice. And, she conceded, if these were different circumstances, they'd probably date. And she'd probably sleep with him. But this isn't how she'd planned it. Ian didn't seem to notice that she'd tensed up. "Clare," he whispered, and climbed onto her lap. He pushed her back against the couch, and forced his mouth on hers. "You know you want this," he said, softly. His hands drifted down the front of her shirt, found her tits, and squeezed them. "I can tell. These tits are so hard." He reached down the front of her blouse, and began to play with her nipples, enjoying feeling them grown hard around his fingers. Clare let out a shocked, small moan. It had been so long....this felt so good....she felt herself begin to relax. "What are you going to do for me, Clare?" Ian leaned back and pulled her shirt over her head. "Are you going to suck on this cock?" He reached around to unhook her bra. Clare sat there, not moving, letting him do whatever he wanted. "Are you going to ride this cock?" He pulled her bra away from her body. "I want to cum on these tits," he said, leaning down to suck on one. "Oh, God!" Clare said, moaning. "Whatever you want. Oh, shit, Ian, whatever you want." "I know. I know. I'm going to take from you whatever I want," Ian stood up abruptly and began to remove his clothing. "Clare, take off your pants...and those panties." he ordered, and she complied. His cock grew harder, watching her do what he asked. "Get on the bed, Clare," he ordered next, "and spread your legs." Looking at his massive erection, now free from the confines of his jeans and shorts, Clare felt sure that she was going to get fucked. But Ian put his head between her legs, and pushed two fingers into her cunt. "You're very wet," he said, pushing his fingers around, making her writhe. "I like that." He began to eat her and fuck her cunt with his fingers, making her yell loudly and uncontrollably. "Be as loud as you need to, Clare. No one can hear us." He felt her begin to tense as she grew closer to orgasm. He pulled his fingers out and stood up. Her face showed tension, need. He loved seeing her like this. "Please," she begged. "I need to cum. Please finish me." "I like to hear you beg," he said. "Turn over, put your ass in the air, and say it again." Clare did, begging uncontrollably, her voice slightly muffled. Ian, stroking his massive hard on, ran his hands down both sides of her impressive ass. He then stuck his fingers back inside her pussy. "You're still so wet," He murmured appreciatively, before leaning over her and pushing his hard cock into her cunt. "Oh, shit! Please fuck me, please fuck me!" Clare yelled, as he jammed his huge penis in and out of her impossibly wet cunt. His hands reached around to stroke her nipples, which were impossibly hard. "God! My tits, my cunt, oh, fuck, I'm going to cum!" "Do it! I want you to cum on my cock!" He fucked her deeper, pushing his large cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, rubbing each nipple with his fingers, as she began to scream and yell as her body quivered as she came. Again, her doing exactly what he ordered excited him, and he could feel his own orgasm mounting. He pulled out quickly. "On your back!" He ordered, as Clare, still gasping, moved as he directed. Pumping his cock, he felt the release of his orgasm flooding him, as he came all over her tits and mouth. "Lick it," he said, and she leaned forward to clean off his cock, swallowing. As she lay there, covered in cum and still breathing hard, with her heart pounding, Clare knew she would not mind being sent underground. Underground The tube train was packed as we journeyed for our anniversary across London to a special place at a special time. Mebbe I should have got ready earlier so we'd miss the crush, not be so fussy in dressing up for you when you'll probably tear me out of them when we get there. Trying to be prim and proper yet slightly wild and come-hither for you... my black hold-ups hitched high to almost touch the black stretchiness of my very skimpy lace thong... well, almost a g-string with only a slender strip joining the two neat triangles of mesh under my pleated mini-skirted modesty, bridging an excited quivering dampness. First in, we're squeezed against each other, face to face, as your eyes lower to gaze admiringly at my boobs, bra-free under a sheer black see-thru scoop-neck body stocking, with only a neatly buttoned up, leather-effect waistcoat making me somewhat respectable instead of daringly sluttish. I can feel how hard you are, pressed against me. Usually I'd feel its rigidty raw against my tum but in higher heels than usual your stiffness seems to rub against my mound, threatening to break out of your stretched boxers, rip through your zip and shoot up my skirt... I gasp at the thought. Blush. Smirk. Look into your eyes. You can read my mind so easily when... ...my expression... ...says... ...ooh. Parted lips. Up here and down there. Another stop, more bodies sardine in. You sidle round and beside me. I miss the feel of your erection, wonder who presses there now and gets a surprise... Ooh! Strong firm warm fingers lift what little hem of my mini there is, crawl down the cheek of my bum, tweak me naughtily before wiggling their way tween my tightly clamped thighs into... Ooh! Ooooooooh... Eyelids flutter, teeth gnaw at a lip. That had better be you... I look aglance at you. Your face feigns innocent. Badly. A sudden halt, and I'm jerked round to face you again, both of us tween a barrier and other squashed commuters. Your hand comes up to hold mind as I grasp your lapel for support, and the slipperiness of your secret grope against my fingers, the unmistakeable scent of myself on you... I'm driven wild by the thought of you inside me, want you now in some dangerously erotic way... but I'm no exhibitionist. I have my limits, and public sex is beyond them. Or is it? The train slows darkly, bumpily, and the lights go out inside the tunnel of darkness. Unaware commuters gasp, and whispered reassurances from others calm them into silence. We know the train ride well enough... this tunnel is usually power starved and lightless for a short couple of minutes as it chuggily-chugs through the darkness to its next stop. I let my shoulder-slung handbag slip down and let it make a noisy show of dropping to the floor but aimed between my heels. I know exactly where it is but sidle down, making deliberate searching grasps and muttered apologies to nearby commuters. All this time, my other hand quickly quietly unzips you, searches out the tight thin skin over rock-like hardness, warmly textured by throbbing veins and sticky slipperiness... and out it pops. There's no time for coyness. The lights are fickle, flickering a lil here and there in the dark. I hope no-one looks down, and if they do my hair covers my indiscretion. My lips surround the soft-yet-firm tip, and my fingers grasp the swollen shaft while my thumb rubs deliberately but non-too-violently back and forth in covert arousal along the raw underside of your cock. I can't let myself bob on you, so flick my tongue over the tip, swirling the dribbling ooziness around my mouth, while my lips grip you, sucking hard, as if a straw in a thick shake. I can feel the hotness of further drops trickle into my mouth, and your hands clasps the hair on top of my head, then grips tightly. I also don't have a choice, nowhere to spit, so relax and let the rush of you cum over my tongue and down my throat, while above me I imagine you trying not to let your pleasure, your release, colour your expression too obviously. I let you slip back wetly, disappearing into the zip and folds of your damp boxers, and I do you up while gulping the hot sweet stickiness down. Grasp my bag and stand again as the lights come on and the trains bumps to a halt in the light of the station. I smile meekly, and with a slight 'tsk' you raise a tissue to my lips and wipe a thin dribble of whiteness from the corner of my mouth as I go crimson. "Y'know," you sigh, "Eating between meals can ruin your appetite... " "Mebbe," I blush, "But I prefer to think of that as an apéritif... " Underground Adventure The bar was dark, music throbbing in an endless din. Among the cacophony, you, J., and I are standing near the bar. I am wearing a tight long black leather skirt with a slit that reaches up to the top of my thigh and a sheer black long sleeved blouse with a velvet panel across the bust that is still not enough to conceal my full breasts as they try to burst over the top. I'm pantiless, braless, except for a bit of support in the velvet panel of the blouse. Sandwiched between the two of you, none of us are really in the mood for the noise and smells of a bar that night or so I think. I feel your hand slide between the slit of my skirt and your fingers touch the smoothness of my freshly shaved pussy. Your hands are cold against it after holding onto your drink and I'm startled by it. My ass pushes back against you with the fright and I can feel it cushion your cock against it. Your cock feels full, slightly aroused, as though you had something other than dancing on your mind. "I have to go to the bathroom", I tell you and J. You look at each other and nod at me, saying "Okay", almost in unison, a slight smile rising to your face. I step into the tiny bathroom, painted black and dark purple as the rest of the club, and relieve myself, then powder my nose and open the door to rejoin you and J. Instead, I feel my body thrust back, something strapped over my eyes, and feel myself being spun around an undetermined number of times. I gasp, losing my breath and feeling my body lean as if to faint, but instead, I feel a hard body supporting me. I feel as though I have moved somewhere, my shoulders bumping against a wall to my right, but I cannot tell how far. I hear a door shut, feeling darkness around me, and sensing more than one person controlling the situation, I listen for conversation, but hear none. Then I feel hot breath on my ear...a tongue licking my ear lobe from behind me. In front of me, I feel hands grabbing a breast in each hand and squeezing them tightly, then molding them, causing my nipples to harden, despite my fear. The firm hand suddenly rips the blouse from my body...I can hear it shred and I cry to myself, knowing how much it cost me, and what's more, thinking of what would be done to me. I feel the cool wetness of a mouth on my nipple, and I feel as though I am dissolving in his or her mouth. Behind me, a hand has reached under my skirt and slipped between the lips of my pussy, massaging slowly, rubbing the lips, teasing around the slit until my trembling for fear turns to pleasure. I start to moan, pushing my breasts into the mysterious mouth, and trying to adjust my torso to get the probing fingers to slide into my cunt. But each time I give more, they pull back. I start to moan from the agony of denied pleasure, being brought to the brink of cumming and not being allowed to. Suddenly, I hear a door sweep open and feel my body twirled around again...another door slams, and I feel my body pushed to bend over some surface and my hands are tied behind my back. My breasts are pressed flat against the table and I feel fingers gently unfasten my skirt and unwrap it from my hips. As it slips off, I feel someone approach...definitely a man...his cock brushing lightly against my exposed ass. I smell a familiar scent...your cologne...and I know that you must be near somewhere. I hear shuffling in the background as the man teases me from behind with his cock. Then, I feel the loosening of my blind fold from my eyes. Regaining my focus, I look around to see where I am. It is an unfamiliar room, though I assume it must be a part of the same building as the club. It is the same black and dark purple decor, but with various types of furniture that look unfamiliar, and straight before me, a large bed, dressed in black satin. J. is reclined on it among numerous pillows, stroking his cock.. You come in from a dark corner towards the bed, defying my thought that you were the one behind me, although there no longer seems to be anyone behind me. Being blindfolded was disorienting. There is almost a spotlight illuminating the bed. Where I am bent over is the optimal viewing point. I watch as you climb onto the bed and lying on J's side, you start to suck his stiff cock hungrily as only a man would know how to do. I hear the moans and sighs coming from J as your mouth engulfs every inch of him...from where I am I can see your own cock swelling as it bats against J's bare ass. My pussy tingles from the sight of two men getting off together yet I feel so exposed. My ankles are harnessed to the table so that I am spreadeagle, my bare ass, legs, and pussy exposed. As you continue to ride J's thick cock in the steady slurps and sucks of your mouth, your saliva runs down the crack of his ass that you begin to pry apart with one hand, slipping your finger along the trail to his anus, rubbing the spit around his crinkled hole. You deftly gleam your fingers with lubricant from somewhere around the bed and start to suck his balls...then sliding two fingers, then three, into his exposed ass. J's moans grow increasingly insistent as he asks for more. You kneel before him, your cock standing stiff in the air and rub it against his cock, then his balls, push his hairy legs up towards his body and probe his asshole with the ruby tip of your dick until you sink the head inside. At this sight, my body is shaking....trembling with excitement... your first drive into his asshole goes slowly, gently, but deeply until your balls are flat against his ass. You both lay still for a while to embrace the sensation of it. I feel my pussy juices dribbling from my smooth shaven cunt down my spread, caramel brown thighs...I'm cumming at the sight of you fucking J's ass...I love to see the strength of your bodies together, your cocks both stiff and thick and full of cum..I can't touch myself because of my tied hands and I can't even rub my pussy between my thighs, so I use my cunt muscles to make it pulse hard, then release, trying to give myself some sort of pleasure... Suddenly as I lay bent over the table, drunk with lust, there is the feel of a cock behind me, stiff and battering against my naked ass! I was never quite sure if anyone else other than the three of us was in the room...but another man is there, one that I'm sure I don't know...but his cock feels ready, and my pussy is hungry. I feel dainty flicks of his tongue on the feathery inner lips of my cunt and then on my clit. I start to move against the tongue, but he tugs my arms backward further with the harness on them causing a pinch of pain and I stop. I feel his hot breath on my ass cheeks, and he parts them, his nose pressing against my ass as his tongue looks for the treasured hole. He licks around it, never quite on it, teasing me mercilessly. I want to bend over further and let my asshole swallow his tongue, but I'm afraid there would be more repercussions for showing how much I want it. Suddenly, he stands behind me and slips the tip of his dick into my soaking cunt. It is fat, and difficult for my pussy lips to surround it in one thrust. I feel him push and edge it in while he reaches underneath me to rub my clit. You begin to thrust your cock in and out of J's asshole, slick with lube, and he is stroking his cock furiously, both of you grunting and groaning as the mysterious man thrusts his cock into my longing pussy...he parts the lips with his fingers and keeps them there, to feel the juiciness of my cunt and to feel his own cock sliding in and out of it. "Be still, baby", he whispers, "I'll fuck you good". I moan loudly as he begins forcing his cock in and out of my cunt, ramming it into me hard while he gently rubs my pussy...the control that he has to perform two opposite tasks at once amazes me...and causes a rush of juices to flood over his cock..."That's it my lovely slut...feel my cock make you cum.." He raises my ass up and outward to sink his cock in so deep that it touches my cervix..almost on cue, you and J and this man and I start fucking faster and faster, our groans and moans growing to an unintelligible din. Sounds of slapping skin and the suction of cock in and out of wet orifices fills the room...As the man's body bucks over me, riding me hard, you are riding J...faster....faster....deeper.....aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......we let out long cries of pleasure as your cum spurts load after load into J's ass, J's cock explodes in streams and puddles all over his stomach, the mysterious man's load tears through my body as he jackhammers it into me with incredible force until a mixture of his cum and mine drip down my brown legs. Ahh...pleasure! Underground Heat The train hurries into the tube station, opening its doors and disgorging a few harried looking commuters. You squeeze onboard with the tide of homeward-bound people, all but a few obvious groups studiously avoiding speaking or looking at their fellow travellers, each one grim-faced as they think their own thoughts. You are not a regular traveller and look around the packed carriage, glancing at faces and wondering what people are thinking, wondering what is going through those minds behind the blank expressions, the sharp suits giving no clue to the private lives and thoughts of the wearers. You look down at your feet, placed slightly apart to counter the rocking of the train as it hurtles through the inky blackness of the tunnel, the lights flickering for a moment as the train jerks its way along the rails. Your hand grips the pole beside you, adding stability, your back pressed against the glass partition between you and the seats as you sway in time with the movement of the train. The movement slows as the tube pulls into the next station. Few people brush past you as they leave the train, the open door next to you bringing a welcome breath of air heavy with the damp smell of the underground, but preferable to the overpowering aftershave of the man who was standing next to you, thankfully alighting into the throng, bodies heaving onto the train once the last passenger wanting off had stepped onto the platform. The crush is intensified as more get on, a girl just managing to squeeze on as the doors are about to close. She stands in front of you, slightly at an angle, her hand reaching to grab the pole you are holding as the train lurches into movement, temporarily unbalancing her. Her fingers brush yours as she tightens her grip, that slight touch of her soft skin on yours drawing your attention to her as more than just another body squeezed into the packed tube train. You can just make out her profile, high cheekbones with soft skin stretched over them, as light flush of hurry lending them a glow. Her eyelashes brush her cheek as she closes them momentarily, and she tilts her head back, rotating it as if to ease her shoulders. Her arm brushes against yours slightly as the train continues to rattle on its way, and she is pressed against you with the momentum as the train slows, her shoulder against your chest, her arm against yours and she is unbalanced, her feet moving to compensate, leaving her stood with her back towards you. The train pulls into another station and she leans against you to let people squeeze past her, off and on the train, her body pressed to yours as a mother leads her young child onto the heaving train, leaving space for the little boy to stand in as his mother fusses and tell him that it’s only one stop till they are nearly home. She stays like that, pressed against you, the smell of her hair invading your senses, a clean, fresh smell that mingles with her light perfume, coupled with the slight warmth of her that you can feel through your shirt, your open jacket leaving enough of you free to feel her movement against you as the train rattles on its way once more. The acceleration pushes you towards her and you feel her leaning back into the movement, into you, her slight movement, and the smell of her starting to arouse your senses. You look down, seeing her white cotton blouse against your chest, the long rope of her hair in a plait pressed between you, not uncomfortably resting on your breast bone between you and her spine. Your gaze travels over her shoulder, noticing her collar, open and exposing the creamy skin of her neck and just showing the slight curve to her shoulder. You realise that her blouse is unbuttoned quite far as you look down on where she leans against you, and you can see the soft flesh of her throat where it dips between her shoulder blades, your gaze dragged inexorably down to the edge of her blouse, a small crescent of lace showing where her bra is exposed to your scrutiny. You can feel yourself becoming aroused, your prick, once dormant in this crowded atmosphere, beginning to stir with your desire. You become slightly alarmed at the sensation, wondering if she can feel it too, where she has her hips so close to yours, but not pressed against you. The train lurches again and she is pushed against you, her buttocks brushing your burgeoning hardness and sending a shiver up your spine and making you pray silently that she didn’t feel it, that she doesn’t think you are a pervert. You notice her stiffen slightly, her arm becoming more rigid and you feel her intake of breath as it makes her back press against you, then she relaxes as she exhales, pressing herself against your growing hardness, moving her feet to increase the pressure, the body contact arousing you more, the very fact that this unknown girl is pressing against you sending your heart racing. She moves slightly, her movements so slight as to not be noticeable to the other travellers, but felt by your prick, teasing it, making you want to touch this girl, to feel her skin on yours, the thought of having her in your arms, pressed against you tightly, skin on skin as she writhes against you, feeds your lust. She leans against you more, the pressure on your prick delicious as the movement of the train jars your bodies together. Passengers come and go, pushing past you both, squeezing her tighter against you as you shift your feet to move against her, the movement unnoticeable in the throng of people coming and going each time the train judders to a halt in the stations. You wonder how far this girl is going, how long you have left of this delicious feeling before she departs. You decide to make a move, your free hand coming up to rest on her waist and she starts slightly at this touch, but soon relaxes, her hand coming up to join yours, a casual hand-on-hip stance to all but the closest observer as her fingers brush yours, palm pressing against the back of your hand. She presses herself into you more, tilting her head to one side, leaving your eyes to wander over the flesh bared by her open blouse, the view from above revealing more than would normally be seen, the curve of her breasts, the cool dip in between, the lace of her bra. The train pulls into another station, and you feel her tense. She pulls away from you slightly, removing the pressure from your prick, and you feel a stab of disappointment as the doors open and she starts to move towards the door. She turns and looks you in the eye, the lustful gleam in them evident even in the fluorescent hell of the tube station. She grabs your hand and drags you off the train just before the doors close, and you are left standing on the platform with this girl as the train sweeps out, the inky blackness of the tunnel swallowing it like some phallic representation of your lust. She smiles at you and starts to lead you up the stairs, away from the platform, through the ticket barriers, past the blank-faced ticket inspectors and out into the cool evening where the streetlamps fight against the twighlight. She keeps a hold of your hand and leads you along the street in a daze, stopping at traffic lights that are green, traffic rushing through the junction as she pulls you to face her and stands on tiptoe to kiss you. Your lust takes over then and you wrap her in your arms as your kiss becomes forceful, urgent, her responding to your kiss only increasing the heat between you, your prick responding to the feel of her pressed against it once more. The lights change as you kiss, traffic stopping, and she breaks away from you, taking your hand again and leading you with more urgency across the road. Her feet hurry on the damp pavement and you keep pace, your joint lust speeding you to you don’t know where. She pulls you up the steps of a house, fumbling in her bag for keys, finally finding them. Her hand shakes as she puts her key in the lock and the door swings open to a dimly lit hall. You follow her in, and she uses your body to push the door closed as she presses into you again, her lips searching for yours, the relative seclusion of the hallway making you more adventurous as you run your hands over her, feeling the heat of her through her clothes, exploring her curves, running one hand over her taught stomach, up to the sweet swell of her breast. You wonder if you have gone too far with your explorations as she pulls away from you again, but she takes your hand and leads you to the stairs at the back of the hall, guiding you up to the second floor, your eyes straying over her back, her curves, her slight sway as she climbs, watching the way she moves, drinking in each step. She unlocks another door and then you are there, in her flat, the slight smell of her increasing as you enter her domain. She pushes the door shut behind you, and you are in each other’s arms once more, kissing, exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues, your hands exploring her body, as she explores yours. You need to feel her skin under your fingers and you impatiently pluck the material of her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, pushing your hands up under the material to caress her skin.. The heat of her body under your fingers pushes your lust to new heights as you press her against you, as she rubs her body against yours, her nipples hard against your chest through her bra and blouse, her hips grinding against your hard prick. Your imagination takes over, filling your mind with images as you stand there kissing her. In your mind you become a raging lust-beast, tearing her clothes from her body, throwing the rent garments to the floor, exposing her fully to your view. You can almost feel the sensation of roughly pulling her to you, turning her round, bending her over, opening her delicate flower with one great thrust deep into her and rutting at her like a satyr, inexhaustible, insatiable, filling her until you pour yourself into her again and again. Your imaginings arouse you more, driving you on towards what is becoming inevitable as you pull her closer in to you. She pulls her body slightly away from yours, bringing her hands up to fumble with your shirt buttons. You shrug out of your jacket as she does, the kiss not breaking, but becoming a more tenuous thing as you start unbuttoning her blouse, your fingers brushing against the swell of her breasts as you find the buttons seem to have become too big for the buttonholes. She has your shirt unbuttoned, untucked and is pushing it off your shoulders as you struggle with hers. She pushes your hands out the way, breaking the kiss and undoing the rest of the buttons, hurriedly moving from one to the next as you pull your shirt off, sleeves turning the wrong way out as you do, the cuff buttons still fastened holding the sleeves round your wrists till you tug harder on the material. You drop your shirt to the floor and move towards her again as she slides out of her blouse and drops it next to your discarded clothing. Pulling her back into your arms for another kiss, you thrill at the feel of her skin on yours, the slight texture of her bra on your chest, and your hands quickly find the catch, fumbling again, but quickly releasing it and she pulls it off, almost with impatience as she presses her now naked breasts to your flesh, her stiff nipples pressing into you. Her hands are all over your back, stroking, rubbing, nails gently scratching at your flesh, her lust evident in every movement. Your hands drop to the fastenings of her skirt, a button swiftly undone, a zip speedily lowered and your hands travel round her waist, inside her waistband, marvelling at the feel of lace under your fingers as you slide the skirt over her hips, warm flesh meeting your touch as you slide it lower. Her skirt drops to a puddle round her feet and she impatiently kicks it away, then immediately draws her hands round to your stomach, sliding her fingers into the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, releasing the pressure on your prick and making it spring from the material, standing proud through the slit in your shorts. She breaks the kiss as she eases your jeans down, tugging them off, crouching down as she pulls, her head coming down to the level of your prick as she pulls your jeans to your ankles. You move to pull a foot free from the material and stop as she suddenly licks your prick, opening her mouth and taking the head in, sucking greedily on the end. You throw your head back, eyes closed, as the sensation sends you into a paroxysm of ecstasy, your hands moving to twine in her hair as she sucks, her hands busy untying your shoes and you lift each foot in turn to have her strip you naked, shoes, socks and jeans hurried off each foot as she takes more of you in her mouth, sliding down your shaft, then sliding up again, tongue busy over your head, lapping at the precum that is oozing from the tip into her mouth. Once you are completely naked, she moves her hands to your prick, gripping the shaft with both hands, wanking you as she sucks. She feels you get harder in her mouth as you feel yourself want to cum, and she stops, pulling away from you, wanting to prolong this. You are mildly disappointed at not being allowed to cum in her mouth, but as you open your eyes and look down at her, she stands up again, dressed only in the skimpiest of white lace panties, and gently grabs your prick, leading you towards her bed. You follow willingly, the feel of being led by your prick a new experience, but one that you find immensely erotic. She releases your prick when you reach the bed, climbing onto it on all fours, presenting you with a view of her ass, a thin sliver of material bisecting her peachy flesh, her moistness causing a slightly darker patch where the material is stretched over her slit. You reach out to touch her, your lust making you grab at her hips, pulling her towards you as you rub the head of your prick over the damp spot, sliding the length along the sliver of material, feeling the soft silkiness of her panties contrasting with the heat of her flesh as you rub against the two. She moans softly as you stroke her with your prick, and this urges you to move your hands, pushing your fingers through the material of her panties at her waist, pulling them off as she helps by wriggling slightly. You do as she did, crouching and then kneeling on the floor as you pull her panties off, discarding them beside you as you kneel there, faced with her clit and her wetness. You put your hands back on her ass, sliding them over the creamy skin, in towards the wet centre, the hotspot of lust. Your thumbs reach the flesh of her mound, and she lets out another soft moan as you slide them along the length of her slit, teasing the lips apart, then you bend in towards it, smelling her slight muskiness as your tongue comes out to taste her. She arches her back, presenting you with more of her and you take the invitation, burying your tongue into her, your lips caressing her lips in an erotic parody of the kiss you shared earlier. You lick at her greedily, your lust-hunger matching hers when she sucked you, and you move your tongue to find her clit, flicking it and sending shivers through her, her lust throwing her over the edge into an orgasm that spills out of her onto your waiting tongue. You lap at the sweetness, licking her, tasting her until she pulls away from you gently, turning herself over as she does so. She lies there on her back, her knees pulled up, legs parted and she brings her hands down to her thighs, stroking them, looking at you lustfully as she strokes up to her mound and slides a finger along her slit, pulling it upwards, parting her lips with it till her fingertip is on her clit, circling it gently. You stand up, your hard prick aching to be in her, and you start to stroke yourself as you watch her play. She sees you start stroking and she pulls herself into a sitting position, only to take your free hand and pull you towards her. She pulls you down till you have to climb onto the bed between her legs and steady yourself on the bed with your free hand, and draws you into a kiss, her tongue snaking out to taste herself on yours. You lower your body as you kiss, till the head of your prick, still being stroked by you, touches her flesh, moistness coating the tip as you slide it along her length, feeling her still-playing finger on her clit rubbing against you as she teases herself. You slide back down to her wetness, releasing your prick from your grasp as you feel the tip enter her, sliding into her flesh fractionally. You pause there, moving your hands so you are positioned above her, her legs moving to wrap round you, trying to pull you in to her as she moves her hands to your hips to tug you towards her, then you plunge deep into her, the feeling of her around your prick, the velvet wetness of her as her muscles grip you. You both gasp at the feeling, your full length buried in her, her wetness slicking your balls as they meet her flesh dampened by her own lust and smeared by her fingers and your probing prick. You pause deep within her, then draw yourself out, almost all out, just the tip of you in her, your precum oozing into her, mingling with her, increasing the wetness more. She pulls on your hips, wanting you in her again, and you plunge into her once more, pulling out just as quickly, only to thrust deep into her core again your balls tightening as you feel them slapping against her wet flesh. Her hands slide round to your buttocks as your movement becomes more rhythmic, thrusting into her, feeling her push her hips up to meet you on every stroke, and she grips your flesh, nails digging in slightly as she grasps your bunched muscles, pulling you in deep as she orgasms again, the sudden rush of her juices, the pulsing of her muscles round you making you want to come inside her, increasing your movement as her orgasm hits a new intensity and she arches her back, throws back her head and lets out a cry of deep animal lust. You feel your prick twitch, then you join her orgasm with yours, one last thrust pushing you over the edge, spilling your hot seed deep within her, pulsing again, releasing more into her, cumming harder than you have ever before, your lust draining you with every heartbeat-pulse of your orgasm. You collapse onto her, still inside her, feeling her sweat-beaded breasts against your own slicked skin as you lie on top of her, moving to kiss her again, a softer, gentler kiss as your lust subsides and you marvel at what you have just done with this girl from the tube, this stranger who has led you here to her lair, ensnared you and trapped you in her sweet web of ecstasy. Even as you lie there, kissing softly, caressing her skin, running your hands over her, you know it won’t take long for you to become aroused again, and you plan to take things slower next time, explore every inch of her and spend the rest of the night driving her to orgasm, pushing yourself to your limits before unleashing your hot lust into her again and again. Underground "Cut her loose," Harion instructed him. The leader severed the rope around her wrists and ankles with a knife. She slammed her right fist hard on Harion's face, punching him again as he reeled backwards. She delivered a vicious kick across the leader's face that sent him flying against the wall. Harion got back up and tried to deliver a right hook at her but she ducked and kicked him in the chest and face. She ran towards the leader as he took out his knife again, flying into the air to kick it out of his hand. After serving him with a couple of martial arts strikes on his abdomen, he doubled over and fell to the ground. "Damn, you're good," Harion said, nodding impressively. "I underestimated you. I don't fight women very often but you're the best one I've seen." "You're gonna die," she said, seething with anger. "I've never lost a fight," he said confidently. "But we'll see." She lunged at him, slamming him down hard on the floor. As she sat on his chest, she kept pounding his face with her fists until it became bloody. He chuckled and said, "I'm not giving up yet." And with that, he grabbed her arms to stop her from hitting him, got on his knees, and wrapped his arms around her thick, muscular frame in a tight bear hug. He squeezed with all his might, until she had trouble breathing. Then he grabbed both of her big brown butt cheeks and split them open repeatedly. She heard the leader whistle sexily and make cat-calls behind her. As Harion squeezed her tightly again, she began choking, and felt the leader's big dick rubbing against her sweaty, sticky ass. He slid it hard into her anus, and began pumping. She regained her breath. Before Harion could apply his bone crushing bear hug again and insert his monstrous cock into her pussy, she slammed her forehead hard against his with an angry roar, and he released his grip on her. She spun around quickly and grabbed the leader's penis and squeezed it with all her strength until he screamed in agony. After kicking him to the floor, she retrieved his knife and stabbed him to death. "Very impressive," Harion said, smiling. Other members of the gang appeared at the door, ready to strike her but Harion shook his head. He jumped at her, bringing her down on the ground with a loud thud. As he squatted over her, he pinned her arms down on the floor. When she couldn't raise them, she kicked her legs in the air and wrapped his head between her huge, muscular calves in a scissor position. "I wish I could just slice your damn head off," she said, catching her breath. "But I'm gonna have to improvise a little." She squeezed his head hard with her calves until his face got as red as a tomato. He tried to say something, but only gibberish came out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, did you say you're giving up now?" she asked sarcastically. More mumbo-jumbo came out of Harion's hole. It looked like his ruddy face was going to explode at any second. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, releasing her vise like grip and kicking him repeatedly in the face until he landed on the floor with a crash. The gang of naked bikers still stood at the door, staring at her in awe. She quickly ripped the knife out of the leader's chest and used it to stab Harion until his whole chest was bloody. He emitted his last breath of life seconds later, his steel blue eyes staring up at the ceiling. She looked at the gang menacingly. They rushed at her and she flew up in the air and kicked each one of them hard in the face. Before they had time to react she repeated the action until they all staggered backwards in a daze. When one of them grabbed her leg, she stomped on his face with her big bare foot until it was a bloody pulp. She ran out of the room to find Tharus but he was no where in sight. After sliding on her backpack, she ran through the gang's lair, looking everywhere for him. When she finally found him, her jaw dropped open in shock and sadness. He was tied up against a wall in a cruel crucifixion pose, a bullet embedded in his forehead. His two wings had been cut off, lying on the floor below him. Tears ran down her cheeks as she reached up and touched his left foot gently. She said a brief prayer and took off. Leslie studied the single feather she had plucked from Tharus's wing, her eyes watery. She stroked it gently in her hand and gave it a kiss before putting it in her backpack. She then pointed her flashlight in both directions of the tunnel, looking carefully. She was totally lost and disoriented in this subterranean maze, and wondered if she'd ever make it back up to the surface. She looked in both directions once more and decided to go left because that's where the draft was coming from. Perhaps it was coming from an opening from the top. The wind blew back her hair as she walked. It felt nice and soothing. It felt hopeful. THE END