I was outside last night after midnight. I strolled along the streets of Brooklyn, returning home from dinner. The air was somehow different, fluid and swirling like the thoughts in my head. As I stared past my friends I couldn't help but notice a crescent moon nearly dark in its waning stage. Dark like the urges I felt then. I was torn between my principles and my desires. She is a sultry beauty, French by birth, her accent so thick and heavy that I sat mesmerized by her voice all through dinner. Her smile so playful and yet sincere. I kept imagining what it would be like to kiss her.
But what of him? He is hers and she his. I am but a visitor in their home. He and I are friends at work. We talk openly about sex and our wives. And here I am caressing her with my eyes.
I envision us sitting in a small café along the river Seine, She laughs and her eyes sparkle. The wine drunk and the food devoured, we stroll along the banks. It is like an old movie, this vision in my head.
I imagine after dinner, clearing the table and hoisting her upon it. Her legs dangle off the edge daintily as she pulls that filmy dress above her waist. She wears no panties. Her snatch is carefully trimmed and her lips bare. I reach between my legs and pull up the chair and seat myself at her lap. I part her legs with my hands and gaze at her moist folds. My hands caress her thighs and fingertips swirl across her belly.
As I lower my head to her wetness, I drink in her perfume, her sweet fragrance. I bow my head as if in worship to a divine goddess. Aye, that is exactly what I am doing! I nuzzle her sex with my nose, stopping to feel the heat and softness of her inner thigh against my cheek. A slight moan escapes my lips. My heart races and keeps time to the pulsing of her sex. I reach out with my tongue and taste her for the first time. Oh God yes! She is every bit as sweet as she smells! My tongue revels in the sensation of her softness. I lick slowly at first, gingerly tasting and savoring every drop.
She holds me gently by the ears pulling me deeper into her. It is silky and smooth and I don't want her to cum. I want to die here, in her womb.
Her hands release me and she lays back upon the table. In the dim candle light I see we are not alone. Jeremiah has been watching in utter disbelief through the whole thing. He now joins us. He has removed her dress and leans over her from the other side of the table. A breast in each hand, he kisses her passionately on the lips, while I devour her from my seat.
She fumbles with his belt and soon he stands there, pants around his ankles, as she fondles his hardening cock. I watch and suck. My own erection is becoming unbearable against the fabric of my jeans. Her breathing is becoming rapid and her belly and chest heave with increasing tempo. I have one hand under her firm ass, my thumb up to the hilt in her anus as I hold her to my face. My index and middle fingers of my right hand are inserted int her now dripping pussy. With my palm turned upward and resting against my chin, I slowly curl my fingers in and out while increasing the intensity of my sucking. My shoulder is cramping and I can scarcely breath, but I care not. I want her now. I want to feel her contract on my fingers. I need to have her soul as mine if only for a few seconds.
I can feel it coming! First the contractions in her anus and then in her vagina. Her legs draw up and her heels lock around the back of my neck. She releases Jeremiah's cock from her mouth and begins to cry out, "yessss, oh God yessss! Her contractions erupt into convulsions and her legs curl and release. Her back arches high off the table. I draw out my fingers and move my hands to her ass cheeks supporting and kneading as her convulsions slow.
