Chapter Six:
This is a chain story written by Jezzaz, Todd172, Stev2244, Harddaysknight, Girlinthemoon, Qhml1, Oshaw and blackrandl1958. One different author wrote each chapter in this story, building on the work of the preceding author. We are submitting one chapter each day until the story is finished. We would like for you, the readers, to see if you can spot who wrote the different chapters. If you care to hazard a guess, you may leave it in a comment on the story. If no one is right, we will pick the one closest to right and one, or more, of us will dedicate our next story to you. If multiple persons are right, we will dedicate the story to all who are right. We will wait one week after the posting of the last chapter, then announce which chapter was written by which author. This was a very entertaining exercise for us, and we may do it again. We hope you enjoy the story, Napalminthemorning.
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As the pretty white cloud spread, I could feel, first, a strange lassitude, then a feeling of euphoria began to cloud my thinking. I found it difficult to remember what had happened only moments before, as if my short term memory was being eroded.
I saw Logan move with blinding speed, seemingly impossible for a man of his size. Before the Albanians could react, their masks were gone, leaving them staggering and off balance as the straps were broken that had held them in place. Weapons slipped from fingers, moving almost in slow motion, the sound muted as they struck the floor. I thought that it was a good thing the floor of the dining room was laminate, and not real hardwood. That would leave a mark.
Of course, the other... activities that had taken place seemed unlikely to leave any surface of the house unscathed. I wondered if there were cleaning services that specialized in "party cleanup." It also occurred to me to wonder if their employees would be male or female. I decided I would much prefer female. I reached this decision based on the discovery that I was horny, extremely horny. I was so horny that I decided it didn't really matter whether they were male or female. I would fuck blow up dolls, pony boys or any combination of whatever was available. In fact, there was a number of likely looking specimens in that very room.
One was right beside me. I was shocked to see how sexy Amber was. I had always known she was hot, but she was beyond smoking! From the top of her head, down past that sexy little tattoo, to the multi-colored toenails, this woman was drop-dead gorgeous. I had to have her, right then, right there on the floor. That didn't happen. There was a far-away look in her eye and she was looking through the door into the library. She wandered off in that direction, and my erect cock, so erect I thought it was going to break, followed that fantastic ass like a cat following a laser pointer.
It bounced and jiggled in front of me, nearly causing me to stroke out as my heart pounded away. I could feel every throb in my erection. I followed blindly, but my cock knew exactly where to go. Until I stepped through the door and entered the library. Books were strewn around everywhere and someone had swept everything off the desk onto the floor. I suspected I knew the reason, from the evidence left on the top of my desk. It was a sticky mess.
There was another mess, but this was a hot mess and I stood with my mouth open for a moment. Amber, evidently, felt no such paralysis, because she continued walking toward the hot mess. Well, really, the only thing that was a mess was the pounds of curls, in a carefully arranged mess, that spread out over the white sofa against the wall. They were attached to the voodoo priestess we had seen, previously. She was gloriously, and incredibly, naked. This was not naked, as in "no clothes on," but something more primal, more... more.
Amber knelt beside the sofa, reached her hand out in one of the most incredibly sensuous movements I have ever seen, and cupped the cheek of the dusky goddess. She opened her eyes and smiled. Her eyes were a glowing brown, so dark as to almost appear black, slightly tilted up at the outside corners, almost an Asian look.
"You're beautiful." She spoke to Amber and her voice sounded like canned sex. Low and a little husky, a faint trace of an accent, French maybe? "I love beautiful things," she told Amber.
She was toned, sleek and insanely provocative to me. Evidently, Amber felt the same way. She leaned forward and I saw their lips meet. The detail I could see was breathtaking. The puffy lips, lipstick a dark burgundy below, dusky skin with a faint blush. Above, natural pink, faintly swollen from earlier, joining, a moisture seeking moisture. They met, joined and worked together in a sensual dance. I could imagine tongues in play, and as they parted, briefly, the little pointed pinkness of the dusky goddess reached for Amber. I was drawn irresistibly closer until I was kneeling beside them.
