Happy New Year

It was really more than just another New Year for Michael. This was the first New Year in eighteen years he had seen single. It felt good - the beginning of a new chapter. He looked forward to new experiences and new achievements without the nagging dysfunction of his late marriage.

The party was certainly something new. He had never before moved among such a young, hip crowd. There was a tingle of excitement in the air - of titillation. Michael got himself a tall Jim Beam and began to circulate. It was almost like schmoozing but different. There was a bit of a razor's edge in the atmosphere; something tingling yet indefinable.

Michael knew only the hostess, and her only casually. She was a receptionist at the office, who had heard about his messy divorce and had, he assumed, taken pity on him. He was not yet above accepting pity, especially when it came from such an interesting and attractive woman. He had conspicuously not been invited to any of the usual functions and guessed that the 'ex' had received all those invitations. "That's all right," he thought to himself. "It's time for something new, anyway."

"Hey," a deep, sensual voice purred at his elbow, interrupting his musing, "howareya?"

His focus shifted to the side to be firmly engaged by the greenest, most alluring eyes he could ever remember seeing. "Getting better every moment," he replied with an almost embarrassing glibness.

She was dressed in a sort of black ciré/mock-leather fitted jacket and mini-skirt, and he couldn't help letting his eyes survey her from her high black heels to her thick, wild dirty blonde hair. He smiled lamely at her, trying to think of his next line.

"Like what you see?" she asked coyly.

"Uh, yeah," he sputtered, thinking to himself, "I've blown this already."

"I'm Michael," he offered almost apologetically.

"I'm Dom," she said, offering her hand.

Michael felt a little off balance as he extended his hand, "Enchanted, Dom," he replied, immediately kicking himself for sounding like such a priss. Trying to cover, he added, "Short for Dominique?"

"Just Dom," she said, seizing his hand solidly, and pulling him violently into her. Their lips met crushingly, surprising the hell out of Michael, but her sucking mouth and probing tongue met no resistance.

"Phew," Michael gasped as she let him go, "Happy New Year!"

"It's only eleven," she smiled. "Just wait. I'll see you later." And with that she cruised back into the crowd, leaving Michael staring after her, dazed. While he circulated for the next few minutes, the intensity of that kiss kept coming back to him, and he found himself looking around for her - for the mysterious Dom - like a hound on the scent.

Michael caught sight of her a couple times, talking earnestly or laughing loudly in various conversation groups, and he noticed that a thin, almost waif-like woman - barely more than a girl - seemed to be standing at her side much of the time, as if she were 'in attendance'. Her attention seemed to be riveted to Dom, but just to Dom, not at all to the conversation or the situation. "That's odd," Michael mused, "Dom seems to be almost deliberately ignoring her - not shunning her, just ignoring her." Then the masses would swirled and they'd be gone from his sight once again.

The hostess and a few helpers had begun giving out party hats and noise-makers as midnight approached, when Michael felt a hand on his elbow.

"I just hate party hats." The voice was so low it was almost a purr. Dom looked up into Michael's face and smiled conspiratorially. Although he didn't let his eyes wander from her sly grin, he sensed peripherally, that she was once again alone. Her wisp of a shadow had apparently abandoned her – or been lost. Snuzzling her face against his upper arm, Michael felt an almost supernatural heat spread from her cheek up his arm to tingle at the base of his neck. "Let's make ourselves scarce for a while, eh?" she cooed. "What do you say we check out that back bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall?" Raising her eyebrows, she subtly nodded toward the beckoning staircase. Michael felt he'd been given a dare more than a proposition. He didn't even know that there was a "back bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall." Not that that mattered.

He felt the colour rise to his cheeks as he answered with a barely audible, "Sure - why not?" He was thankful for the low light as they turned, she steering him by the arm, and eased to the stairs. "Holy shit!" Michael swore to himself, a silly-ass grin trying hard to break out on his lips, "I'm gonna get laid. I'm really gonna get laid!"

Gliding down the upper hall, the hubbub of the party below faded to a peaceful susurration. And sure enough, at the end of the hall was a closed door, which, as Dom opened it, revealed a small neat bedroom, apparently a guest room of some sort. "'Come into my lair,' said the spider to the fly." Her low voice so oozed with seduction and desire that Michael felt the restriction of his briefs tighten. Quietly closing the door behind them, Dom stared into Michael's eyes, reaching for his fly as she pushed him to the bed.

Licking her lips, she growled in her throat, "Now, let's see what's trying so hard to escape down here." Dropping into a crouch as she lowered the zipper, her hand slithered swiftly into his briefs, seizing the turgid meat and holding it firmly as she pushed him back, forcing him to sit on the bed. "Mmmmm," she moaned, engulfing him with an almost frightening aggressiveness. Michael's eyes snapped wide as he leaned back on the bed, gasping from the sudden pleasure. Then he let his eyes close again – relishing the sensations and intent on prolonging them.

The warm pressure - lips and throat bobbing insistently - was almost too much. "No!" he chided himself, "Not yet - you can't come yet. Hold on. Let's not rush this." Even as he said this he felt the pressure rising in his balls. "No, no, no-o-o,' he wailed. "Too soon! You'll spoil it!"

But his imminent orgasm was interrupted by the low sound of the door latch clicking. "What the...?" His eyes snapped open again and he peered over the busy blonde head through the half-light to see someone quietly entering. Flustered, Michael abruptly pulled the pleasuring mouth from his crotch, wondering desperately how to save face for the two of them.

But gradually he realized that the intruder was, in fact, the young waif he had seen with Dom earlier. She was a rather pretty redhead - her pale skin almost glowing in the dark, and she had a sort of timid, almost lost innocence about her. A look of worry coloured her face, like a child who she knew she was in trouble and was here to face the music. After a moment's hesitation - during which Michael could hear only the thunder of his own pulse - she asked in a meek voice, "Did you want to see me?" Only then did Michael realize that her eyes had never even paused on him. She was speaking to, indeed seeing only Dom.

"Yeah," breathed Dom as she hopped onto the bed beside Michael, hoisting her skirt to reveal a bare, neatly trimmed bush. "C'mere," she ordered softly, casting a meaningful glance at Michael. Leaning back on her elbows beside him, she spread her knees. "I feel like coming on your tongue."

Michael watched in disbelief, his jaw hanging open, as the girl approached the bed quietly, her glittering eyes focused intently on Dom's exposed sex. Dropping wraith-like to her knees, she planted her face, tongue-first, directly into moist crevasse of Dom's snatch. "Ahhh," Dom whispered amidst the wet slurping noises emanating from between her legs. "Nothing like it," she sighed triumphantly. Michael could only stare, but he noticed that his erection was already regaining its vitality.

His brief reverie was broken again by a sudden squirming as Dom nudged him, while holding the young muff-diver with both hands. "Move down to the foot of the bed," she directed, wriggling herself up into the centre, her head reaching the pillow and her hands towing her 'friend' by the ears. As Michael stood, his trousers dropping to his knees, the nameless sylph, scrambled onto all fours, nuzzling eagerly as Dom's hands guided her back to the blonde source. Dom spoke casually but emphatically to the staring Michael. "Help yourself, Bud," nodding her head toward the upturned buttocks.

Stumbling at first, Michael managed to kick off his pants and underwear as he made his way to the foot of the bed. He stopped a moment to take in the beauty of the tableau - Dom holding the redhead tight against her, moving with subtle undulations; a short skirt veiling a tight young butt; a cunnilinguist pushing impatiently into the vee, straining for better a purchase of Dom's quivering quim.

Dom opened her eyes and, letting out a light gasp of arousal, lifted her head slightly. "Don't just stand there - do something!" she hissed, then, flopping her head back onto the pillow, her eyes slammed shut as a steamy breath escaped her clenched teeth.

Michael fumbled quickly with his buttons and tore his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor next to the bed. He reached tentatively, flipping the skirt off the proffered rump, and inserting his hand between the warm thighs. "Holy shit," he marveled once again, "she's shaved." He let his fingers probe the wetness between the puffy lips and savoured their inviting firmness a moment before drawing his fingers up the crack and over her puckered rose. Her hips wriggle a bit but Dom held her securely in place, while beginning to rock her hips. Michael moved through the haze of unreality, spreading the legs as he knelt between them. Placing his hands on the smooth buttocks before him, he automatically shuffled himself until his cockhead was butting at that invitingly bare cunt. He felt her tense up, and hesitated. "This isn't rape, is it?" he thought, a puzzled look opening on his face.

Through glazed eyes he saw Dom staring at him with a wanton, feral look. Their eyes locked and she growled through her teeth, "Do it!"

He felt the ass cheeks in his hands relax ever so slightly. That was all he needed. With slow, inexorable pressure, he began to push between the pouting lips, into the warm sanctuary. After only an instant of initial resistance, the vaginal glove of the still nameless girl began to suck him in. In a moment, Michael felt that he had swayed, once again, from instigator to recipient - from fucker to fuckee - as the hips into he which he was inserted began to swirl and circle - wave and buck.

His cock felt like it was about to explode, not in orgasm but in over-erection. "Can it possibly get any bigger?" he wondered, as they, all three began to shudder and shake in a strange, not-quite-random rhythm. Michael concentrated on finding his place in that rhythm, determined not to end this too soon. Methodically he began to drive in earnest into that warm love-grotto.

He stared down on the amazing scene, his eyes tracing up the still clothed spine of this incredibly arousing young woman. Her willing ass shaking around him as she fervently licked at the sex of her apparent mistress. Continuing his scan he found Dom looking directly at him, a sly smile visiting her lips. Somehow, he understood her non-verbal message and turned up the power of his thrusting. Every deep in-stroke mashed his recipient's face into Dom's damp bush.

Kneading her bum as he pushed and pushed, Michael let his thumbs migrate toward the centre crack until they were massaging her anus. Michael felt his stomach smacking hard against his hands. Their mutual lubrication had begun dripping down their thighs and splashing up her crack so that Michael's thumbs didn't even have to reach to spread the slippery juices in circles on her nether hole. He could feel her bum muscles tense again, even as they continued to shudder, as he poked his thumbs into her, cracking her backdoor bit by bit. Without slowing his pace, he steadily pushed first one thumb, then the other, into her, until he had them both in past the knuckles. He could feel the hardness of his member stroking relentlessly just the other side of a membrane.

Something in the centre of his brain glowed brightly, and, almost unconsciously, he removed his lance abruptly from its hot sheath, while sliding his thumbs out and apart. Spreading her ass cheeks with his hands Michael placed the iron head of his rod firmly against her little brown rosebud. He thought that maybe he heard her mew, just a bit, but whether she was protesting his sudden withdrawal or his impending attack, he couldn't know. Dom still held her tight, unaware of Michael's machinations. She squirmed a bit as he began to push, squeezing her legs in tight against his, but to no effect.

The pre-cum leaking from his cock was all the extra lubrication needed, and he felt the stretching sphincter expand to accept his intruder, until it slipped past with a slight 'pop'. Michael felt an incredible thrill as he quickly sawed himself into her bowels. With a smooth slurping he felt himself almost being pulled into her depths until he was balls-deep, slapping his gut on her hard glutes, his swinging balls smacking her cunt with each stroke.

"Un-fucking-believable!" he thought, as his rasping breath puffed with every stroke. Despite a swirling near-delirium clouding his head, he searched his creativity for something else - more fuel to throw on this inferno of passion. And once more, it was almost like he was on autopilot. He felt himself leaning over her back, throwing his cock deep into her and reaching around with his right hand to let his fingers strum her clitoris.

That final manipulation proved too much. An eerie, muffled keening began to rise from Dom's crotch, as the ass Michael still held with his left hand, fingers pressing tight into the firmness of her cheek, trembled with an increasing magnitude that threatened to throw him off the bed. The resonance spilled up through Dom and shaking her head violently from side to side, she began to scream. Michael thrusted wildly, meeting every backward lunge with an intensity heretofore unknown to him. His hips smacked against the backs of her thighs with bruising force as he forced his fleshy spear into the very depth of her ass. Adding his own voice to the erotic chorus Michael threw his head back with a final jab, shouting, "Ahhhhhhhhh!" It seemed like his whole world was in spasm.

He felt the rectal walls squeezing and releasing frantically, as if they were trying to milk him. His cock twitched and jerked, even within that tight confine, and felt like it was trying to tear itself off and continue alone on its journey into the deep. Michael felt his awareness flare into a glaring brightness, even as its scope shrunk into a tight, tight focus. For a moment there was only his cock - in his whole universe, only that one thing. The explosion of orgasm was almost more than he could bear. The actual force of his ejaculation awed him. Had he ever squirted so much so hard? It was as if the three bodies had pounded together into one - their orgasms building on one another until all their circuits were overloaded. Michael had never, ever experienced such a feeling of connectedness. He knew which of his shudders were from the redhead's tongue still flicking Dom's clitoris, and somehow he knew that she could feel the almost unbearable stimulation of the redhead's ass still squeezing his root spasmodically.

Time stopped; and their mutual orgasm continued. It didn't go on, it just existed. Michael felt them just 'there'; no 'where' or 'when' - not even a 'why'; they just were. Eventually, of course, time resumed. The screaming decrescendoed, ending in an almost pitiful, exhausted mewing; the three bodies went limp, save for a febrile trembling that rippled persistently among them.

They were virtually post-ictal, like coming out of a hypnotic trance. Michael slowly remembered the circumstances - where he was. He could feel his member still pulsing gently in that beautiful ass. "Jesus!" he muttered to himself, "Someone's bound to be coming up to investigate."

But no one apparently was. Over the rasping of their breaths Michael could only just hear the drone of the party below. He couldn't help but smile as he surveyed the situation - he, still semi-erect, held firmly in the tight ass of some nameless redhead whose face was still being held tight in the open crotch of a foxy blonde. You could almost hear the low throbbing of glistening flesh, still recovering from the excitement of activities just past.

Quietly, Dom pushed her licker's face away and whispered, "Clean him off, Jess, and get him hard again, will ya? I want to feel him in me, now."

"Jess," Michael mused idly, without fully grasping the import of what was said, "so that's her name." And with very little hesitation the redhead, Jess, pulled off him with a soft 'pop' and shuffled around one hundred eighty degrees. Michael felt a pang of sorrow as her perfect backside swung away from him, but his attention was immediately re-engaged as she swiftly and smoothly leaned forward to engulf his still turgid member with her mouth. Without missing a beat she took him deep into her throat, swirling her tongue deliciously about his shaft as his glans seemed to bump and dive deep into her gullet. Michael marveled equally at both her complete obedience to her mistress and her talent as a felatist.

He felt rumblings in his loins as his soldier stood immediately to attention, once again. It was not apparently as tired as he'd expected. Sweeping his gaze up over Jess' back, he watched as Dom shoved her hand roughly up into the bottom presented her, forcefully manipulating the tender flesh she found there. If Michael worried for a moment that her hand activity was, perhaps, too rough, his fears were allayed as Jess began to pant and moan around his cock, bobbing with increasing enthusiasm, causing strings of saliva to splash onto her face.

The pressure on his balls increased until Michael thought he could take no more, but, abruptly, Dom grabbed Jess' hips and literally flipped her aside. Then she laid back with her knees down and her legs spread wide, looked at Michael with a wicked sort of half smile and said simply, "Come."

With a slight nod, Michael slid forward, his rampant prick homed in on Dom's dripping twat without any guidance at all, and as smooth as silk he sank his sword seep into her moist sheath. With one easy stroke he sailed in until he could feel the spongy bumper of her cervix against his glans. As he reached the end, his balls swung against her ass. Michael stopped. He closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths, trying to keep his enflamed arousal below crisis.

In her low, powerful voice, Dom asked, rhetorically, almost nonchalantly, "Jess, be a good girl; just lick his ass until we both come, okay, Hun?"

Jess, who had remained motionless for the past few moments, came suddenly awake. "Okay," she breathed, as she squirmed around and lay on her front between Michael's feet. Then she shuffled with her toes and gently pushed her nose up into his ass. Placing her thumbs into his crack and reaching around his rump with her fingers to grasp his hips, she held him steady and pressed her pointed tongue against his rose. Michael fell forward onto his outstretched arms let out a gasp of pleasure, still afraid to move any more, while Jess' persistent muscle pushed and demanded entry into his nether hole.

"Come ON!" Dom hissed in exasperation, heaving her hips up and facilitating Jess' entry into his rear port. The move succeeded in kick-starting Michael once again, and he began a slow withdrawal, forcing himself back against the wonderful probing, before slowly reversing to spear deep into the grasping slit. Dom heaved on his withdrawals and Jess chased his insertions with building momentum until they found a frenzied, yet harmonious rhythm.