At the Big Bay Window

Anna found herself in front of a wall of giant bay windows, separated from the main body of the party. The glass reflected the vast room behind her as a ghostly image superimposed on the view across the dark hills beyond, dotted here and there by the lights of other houses. She could see her own reflection in the glass, but only as a silhouette. The part of the room she was in was dark, lit only by over spill of the dim light from the rest of the room.

Stephanie was already on her knees in front of a man lounging on the luxurious leather sofa near the center of the party floor. The last Anna saw, two other men had their hands all over her and another girl. Anna knew where that was headed, and didn't want any part of it.

Stephanie was her best friend. They had been roommates in college. Stephanie was the wild one, Anna the quiet, reserved one. Steph had known how to push Anna's buttons, and as much as it annoyed her, she was grateful to her friend in the end. Steph's less than gentle prodding and pushing usually managed to get Anna to reluctantly go along with things she wanted to do anyway, but could have never brought herself to go through with on her own.

Steph was Jimney Cricket's evil twin, Anna's anti-conscience. Anna's courage.

She always wondered what Stephanie was going to get her into next, and tonight, what she'd gotten her into was an exclusive party in a huge mansion way, way up in the hills. But there was a catch. There was always a catch, and Anna did not find out what it was until it was too late. They were greeted at the door by a nude man who welcomed them and gestured to a door to the side of the foyer - itself a room almost as large as Anna's tiny apartment - through which they could 'change'.

Anna and Stephanie went through the usual ritual. Anna protested that she couldn't. She tried to be mad at her friend, threatened to call an Uber to go back home. She begged, pleaded, and made excuses before inevitably giving in. She always did. They both knew that she would, but Anna felt like she had to go through the motions regardless, hoping against hope that she would win the argument and be relieved of the need to screw up her courage yet again. At the same time, part of her dreaded the day when that happened.

They'd played the usual games with friends and acquaintances in college. Spin the bottle, truth or dare, strip pong. Anna had gone along with them, removing clothes one piece at a time, or performing dares, with a laughing reluctance and fear that only served to focus the attention on her nudity. Attention that aroused her despite herself.

This was different. She was being prodded to walk nude into a room full of dozens of complete strangers. Strangers that moved in circles as foreign to her as ancient Greece, strangers that had motivations and expectations she could never fully fathom, who enjoyed luxuries she could never relate to. Strangers that ranged in age from just a little bit older than her to what looked like the mid fifties for some.

She wasn't sure she could go through with it, but the voice whispered seductively in her head, 'You're wet just thinking about it. And just look at those nipples.'

It was too late to back out now, so she did it. Faces turned to her and Stephanie, surveying the new meat. Anna barely resisted the overwhelming need to curl up on herself, to cover herself with her arms and hands. She tried, not quite as hard, to resist the urge to let her eyes wander the nude bodies beneath those faces. Bodies she would not have kicked out of bed even if she hadn't been in the middle of a dry spell that had gone for more months than she cared to think about. Bodies that, at the moment, terrified her.

Stephanie was the opposite, ebullient and grinning from ear to ear, open and ready for anything. For everything. They'd mingled a little, sticking together, until Stephanie had been drawn away by the kinds of opportunities she'd come here to take full advantage of.

Anna drifted on her own, meekly nodding and smiling to a few people, engaging in some small talk that went nowhere, and eventually finding herself alone at the windows. None of the men she'd passed had outright stared at her, but she could feel their eyes on her and had more than once caught a look that conveyed a question, or a promise.

There were women there, quite a few of them. They all had the air of naturally fitting into such a crowd, though their age range was much more constrained to the low end. She got meaningful looks from more than one of them as well.

Anna looked out the windows, standing close enough that her shadow created a gap in the reflection that allowed a clear view out across the hills and the rectilinear grid of lights of the city below. The place felt isolated, separated from the world she knew, the world under those orange lights.

She felt a hand lightly touch her waist and heard a voice beside her head, and more than a little above. "It's a beautiful view." It wasn't a voice so much as a whisper devoid of timbre. It was obviously a man, a tall man, a good head taller than she.

She wanted to turn, to see the face of her suitor, but he moved closer and more fully behind her, letting his chest brush against her back in a way that didn't prevent her from turning, but discouraged it. The motion also brought a single point of firm flesh against her upper hip, brushing it enough to know exactly what it was and what he intended.

She didn't turn. She'd go along with the game for a little bit, while it was just a game, a prelude. Until the novelty wore off and they faced each other, spoke to each other, and began the real dance. She let her body relax, and he picked up on it. The hand on her waist applied the slightest pressure and she went with it, letting herself slide closer. Her shoulders and upper back met a chest that felt hard and toned, and she felt his erection bend to the side as it was drawn across her lower back.

She again wanted to turn, to see his face. To see that penis. She was nervous, but she was already getting moist and her nipples were returning to alertness. Turning to face him would have been even more awkward now that her back was pressed against him. She looked at the window, searching for his face in reflection, but it was too dark.

They were one silhouette now, indistinguishable from each other, their faces both featureless black shapes. She saw the higher of the two heads bow, and felt lips and a nose against the back of her head, exploring her hair. The hand on her waist moved to her belly, pulling her more tightly against him.

She felt as much as heard his soft intake of breath as he moved his face in her hair, slowly moving lower. His hand gently caressed her flat stomach without wandering. His other hand moved to her shoulder, gripping it lightly. His lips moved lower on the back of her head.

His hand moved off her shoulder, and she felt her long hair being gathered, her head gently pushed forward.

Oh, no, not that, she thought. Not yet. I'll be......

But it was too late. She felt cool air on the back of her neck as her hair was drawn away, immediately followed by soft, hot breath. No, she thought. I haven't even seen your face yet. I don't know your voice, or your name. Lips nibbled the back of her neck while his hand roamed over her shoulder, collarbone, side of her neck.

The lips moved to the side slowly, finally hitting the point where her shoulder met her neck. That one spot.

She tensed as a warm tingling starting from his lips as a bright point of light spread through her body. Her nipples stiffened fully as the wave front passed through them. Her stomach lurched and the wave went down to create an ache deep inside her. Moisture began to seep.

She knew she would give in, that he would have her. She could turn around now, see him. Even without that low purring moan she'd let escape her throat, he knew it as well. From her posture, the tension in her, and probably from her smell, he knew. The hand on her belly moved up to cup a breast and pull her back more firmly against his chest.

He brushed her nipples lightly and she silently begged for more pressure. He let her beg for a while, then suddenly pinched, making her see stars. She felt that pinch through her entire body and the ache deep within her spread along the one path to the outside world. The one path he could follow to reach its source.

He'd been slow and gentle so far. Now, without a word, he took charge. His movements became firmer, more decisive. His hand mauled her breast just short of roughness. His lips roamed over her neck and shoulders. He pulled her head back and to one side and bowed his face over her shoulder to kiss the side of her throat. She almost saw his face then, but not quite, and the need to see it was fading in the face of a more urgent need.

The hand that had been on her shoulder moved down her side, her waist, her hip. Then inward, not waiting for a sign. She'd already given him all the permission he would need. His hand roamed as if he owned her. He teased, not because he needed to but because he wanted to. His fingers moved over her bare mound, dipped just far enough against her slit to tell her that that too was his now, then slid to the side and traced the hollow of her groin where it met her outer lips.

She wanted to tell him to just fuck her, but his manner told her that he would not take no for an answer, that he would not take yes for an answer. That he would not wait for any answer.

His cock was rampant, straight up against her lower back. She felt his balls against the top of her ass. She wanted it lower, but he was taking his time, savoring her.

His lips moved down her back while his hand moved from her breast to her shoulder. She felt his lower body pull away from her, his cock contacting her with the tip only. It started to slide down as his lips moved down her back. It trailed along the cleft of her ass then away completely.

His lips were at her lower back now, both hands on her waist. He moved inexorably lower. His lips reached the top of her ass while his hands moved to her hips. Gentle pressure on her hips demanded that she bend forward, but she had no room. She was only a foot from the window.

She leaned forward, her chest pressed against the cool glass, her palms and forearms flat against it, surrendering. His hands pulled her hips back, and she felt herself open up to him as she slid an inch down the hard glass.

His tongue trailed downward through the wider gap she now presented. One hand moved off her hip as his tongue snaked down. She flinched when she felt a wet point probe her anus. It was a first for her, and she expected only a brief contact before he moved on.

He had other ideas. His tongue probed her, pushing into her, rimming her puckered hole. She'd never felt anything like it. She'd never imagined her reaction to it. She'd never... oh God.

The hand that had vacated her hip was on her inner thigh, pressing upward. Her feet moved apart almost involuntarily and he took advantage of the access immediately. His fingers slid under her to either side of her lips, squeezing them between. His face remained buried in her ass.

A third finger slid up along her slit till it found her hood. Her whole body vibrated and she pressed her ass back. He went with her motion, pulling her, forcing her body away from the glass. It allowed her to bend down more fully, her hands braced on the window, her ass pulled open even more.

His fingers probed her, now joined by his tongue on her pussy. She lost track of where he kissed, licked, pressed, rubbed, and squeezed. She only knew that they were all the right places and that that tingling ache was spreading across her body from one central point. More than an ache, it was a quickly rising tension, a tension in her whole body that she knew would build to its breaking point before releasing suddenly, catastrophically.

She felt fingers against her opening, his tongue swirling to either side, below, above. She knew she was coating his fingers and face and that those fingers would meet no resistance. She pushed against them, needing them inside her, walking her hands further down the window.

She felt them push in till his other folded fingers pressed flat against her. She felt what must have been his thumb flicking her clit.

She didn't believe in God, but she prayed anyway. Just let him not stop this, just for one more minute....

His tongue found her ass again, and turned that minute into seconds. Her thighs quivered and she bent further forward, needing to be as fully open to his hands and mouth as physically possible. She could see her feet, and his behind them. His knees were flayed out, his balls hanging, a black outline against the faint light of the floor below.

She barely registered the sight as she came, her mouth babbling incoherent sounds, her body vibrating, muscles clenching and releasing in waves. She forgot where she was, forgot her name, forgot everything but the pressures and frictions of his fingers, his tongue, in places she hadn't been touched in far too long, and one place she'd never been touched. One place she never knew she needed to be touched.

She lost track of time, and when the waves diminished to a gentle lapping at her shores, she raised her head to see her reflection. Just a black silhouette, but she could see that her hair was a wild tangle. She felt moisture on her face and knew that her makeup would be smeared. Then she saw another silhouette rise above hers, the face still invisible but the head obviously looking down in a posture as old as the human race.

He gave her no chance to recover. He plunged his cock into her in one smooth motion, and she felt hands on her hips moving her in time with his thrusts. She couldn't have stopped him if she wanted to, and the little part of her that did, that insisted she should make him wear protection, had no chance.

Her knees wobbled and threatened to give out. The ache in the center of her belly had not been completely erased by her climax. As hard as she had cum, it had not reached that deeply into her. She knew that now he would.

He felt huge. Every man she'd had did at first, but this was different. He reached places no one had reached before. He opened her more fully than she had ever been.

She was exhausted, but the tension was rising again. She didn't have the energy to sustain that tension and to hold herself up at the same time, and she had no choice about the former. He supported her and helped her lower herself to the ground, never removing his cock from her as they moved to the floor. Her knees hit the varnished wood of the floor harder than she would have liked, but she didn't care. She held herself up with her hands, feeling her tits hanging in midair, swinging gently from their motion.

His hands reached around and under, cupping them as he resumed his pace and more, faster. She could feel the presence of other people, of eyes on her, but she was beyond caring. Let them see her at her most depraved, most wanton. She could hide nothing now, not from him, not from them. She would deal with their knowing, disapproving stares later.

She wondered if Stephanie was in the same position, or if she was one of the people watching. If she was in the same room, she could not help but notice, even as large as the room was. Anna felt like she was the center of everyone's attention. It was a thought that would mortify her any other time, but not now. So long as he brought her over the top, to that glorious, sudden release of unbearable tension, there was no price too high to pay.

She couldn't support even her upper body any more as he drove into her. She collapsed her chest to the floor, bending almost double, knowing it would open her up even further to his eyes, to everyone's eyes. That there was nothing out of the reach of his cock and his fingers, that was all that mattered.

He slammed into her and he felt him swell, felt his balls stop slapping her clit with every thrust, too tight now to swing against her. Not yet, she pleaded, unsure if she'd said it out loud or not. I'm this close....

She felt her ass spread apart with his hands and his thrusts penetrate a delicious extra few fractions of an inch deeper. A finger slick with wetness moved inward, tickled her asshole, then pushed against it, and kept pushing. It put her over the top right as she felt his cock throb and a jet of cum splash inside her.

He backed his rhythm off to a staccato series of hard, sharp thrusts while she wailed and went limp, her thighs shaking uncontrollably, her stomach bucking and churning. He held her hips up, simply using her lax body. She didn't have the energy to support herself, she had no will to move at all. She whimpered and wailed and let him simply fuck her, offering neither resistance nor cooperation.

He continued beyond where she could tell if he was still cumming, till the last waves of her own orgasm subsided to random twitches. He pulled out and gently lowered her flat and face down the floor. He leaned over her, his cock covered in their combined slickness and already flagging against her ass. She felt his chest press against her back, and a light kiss on the back of her neck. He whispered a single, random word in her ear before lifting off of her and leaving her limp and exhausted on the parquet floor.

She lay there just trying to breathe, not caring about the hard wood pressing uncomfortably against her. She felt his presence now as an absence, a hole in her universe shaped like his black silhouette. She sensed that the crowd was dispersing. She felt self conscious about how exposed she was, face down, legs splayed, ass curled up, his seed oozing from her thoroughly worn out cunt.

She cared, now, but she couldn't do anything about it for an untold number of minutes. Finally, she gathered herself and managed to curl up on her side.

The position let her get her first view back into the room. If there had been a audience, it was broken up now, and everyone was mingling again, at least those who were not involved in their own pleasures. For the first time since she'd felt that hand on her waist, she heard the sounds of it from around the room, the low grunts, the high moans, the squelching sounds of moist, slapping flesh and the rhythmic rustling of furniture. She could smell it in the air.

She searched the faces, the bodies, but could not find any that fit. The only face she recognized was Stephanie's. Her friend was approaching, a broad grin on her face. Stephanie came to her and sat on the floor facing her. "Hey girl." she said. "You look like you are going to need a week to recover."

Anna didn't answer. "Who was he?" was all she could say.

Stephanie's grin got wider. "Not my business to tell." she said.

Anna was frustrated, but too worn out to argue. She let her friend help her unsteadily to her feet, then to the shower, then to get dressed. "You want me to take you home?" Stephanie asked.

Anna declined, knowing that for Stephanie, the party was just getting started. They hugged, promised to talk tomorrow, and Anna made toward the door, scanning the faces again for some clue, a significant look, a head of hair that matched the reflection in the big glass panes. There were none.

Somehow, she knew that he had not left, that somewhere among all the faces watching her go was the man who had just fucked her senseless. The man who had brought her to the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, who had in turn used her willing body for his own pleasure. The one man in the world to whom no part of her body was a secret, and who had revealed a secret even she didn't know she had. One of the many penises on display, some limp, some hard, many in between, was the one that had filled her with the semen was still inside her, the sperm that were even now frantically swimming toward their goal, still, in a sense, fucking her.