Still on the case of the murdered movie director at the local adult theatre, my assistant and I wanted to investigate a possible link. My initial theory focused on a connection between a haunted mansion and the legacy of a robber baron by the name of Drago Malice. He was a mysterious figure of local lore and legend who dabbled in the occult and various proclivities of BDSM. The Malice estate existed on prime land facing the Gulf of Mexico in a town called Playa de Concha. You had to use your imagination to consider the implications of the name, conch beach, and so forth. The seaside community was home to a mature upscale population.
Sexuality was openly rampant. Of that, the salacious incarnation of psychic liberation, the very essence of coming out of yourself, well, that was the interesting thing about this place. A person, a group, anyone came here free to explore the far reaches of carnality. Where the shadows beckoned the primal invitation, one could choose to accept the degradation of self. Entering selflessness, the rebellious nature of independence allowed itself to evolve. Yet, once you left the intoxicating devious realm of sexual freedom within these walls, the outer world waited. With all its oppressive and demeaning notions of normality, the selfish confines of conformity devalued the individuality of self-expression. The slaves ruled over the free persons.
In the cavernous basement of the exotic gothic styled castle, Drago constructed a multifaceted playroom to cater to every possible sexual inclination. Passageways, tunnels and interconnecting rooms added to the mystique. The Marquis de Sade would have been impressed. Anyway, Woody Long, my able-bodied coworker in my private detective agency, and I stood in the so-called dungeon mesmerized by the intoxicating effects of the atmosphere. Recovering from our sexual escapade just moments earlier, we tried to sort things. I had just fucked his ass with a strap on, and he had accepted my dominance to explore the dark regions of his mind.
Fem-dom, female domination comes in many forms, for which mutuality of consent were essential. When we entered the colossal antiquity of medieval design, our senses encountered an alternate reality that seemed to permeate the premises. Without drug or alcohol consumption on our part, we dove into a carnal stupor free to unleash our inhibitions. Inside our minds, the dungeon of delight took hold and drew us into our fascination with the shadows that cloaked our inner most thoughts. I felt a powerful allure to the potency of my femininity, a warrior female, that made my clit tingle with one orgasmic spasm after another. I really wanted to fuck my assistant.
"Damn you're a good fuck, Woody," I complimented him and massaged his shrinking penis. His cock, while not the size of horse, and I've seen those, was beautiful. "Geezus, you get a really good erection when you're all wired up, my boy toy. I mean what the fuck, pal? A nice big dick like this, Kitty's right, you should be in movies, and it's impressive."
"Thank you, boss, that's a wow, I've never had two women treat me as kind as you and Kitty do," he said, sounded like a whimper, maybe a sigh of sorts in his state of submission. Fit, hung, smart, courteous, not an asshole like most, he could be a valuable asset to anyone. "Realty comes out at a moment like this." His tongue dangled to one side of his mouth as though exhausted. "This has been an incredible morning. Fucking her, a famous adult film star, on the conference room table, and now getting fucked by you, I feel free inside my head. I'm speechless."
"I know, that's where we should be as humans, totally free, liberated beyond all those conventional constraints and silly social babble," I wanted to explain things to my younger colleague. "Liberation from all the bullshit, the mundane boring consensus," I postulated openly to him. "People aren't property, chattel, slaves, we're free spirits. We need to do what we want to do at any given moment, and not hurt anyone in the process. And, you know what?" I posed the deeper question that lingered on the surface. "Fucking is freedom. It's spiritual."
"It is," he answered simply and pondered that, at least he gave me that by what I saw in his facial expression. "I like what you said earlier, 'fuck or be fucked', that's essential."
"So, there you go," I replied gently, and caressed his amply endowed penis. Still gleaming, his cock had the slick shine of both our juices. "Damn, you have a beautiful dick, Woody." My fingers squeezed him. "And, your balls are perfect, big, full of cum, and delicious."
"Thank you, boss, and damn I love that you dominate me," Woody said with a shiver. "Oh what the hell, that's just amazing sensations. I get shudders, you're so hot and gorgeous." He rolled his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Whoa, at Kitty, geezus that's some woman."
"Yeah, thanks, pal, yep, kinda of in a mature way, for both of us. She's definitely an inspiration, and doesn't give a fuck what others think," I said desiring the compliment.
As though passing through a portal in time, both of us enjoyed the momentary role-play of divergent exceptionality. Alone but for the two us, the notion of conventional constraint surrendered to the higher sphere of unity in sensual reclamation. While I fucked him, my senses spokes streams of boundless energies in the expression of the suppressed manifestation inside me. Willingly, with a resilient receptivity, Woody relished in the brief time to be free.
For the moment, I toyed with his cock. A flash back to minutes earlier, I relished in the escape. Fucking him, jacking him off, likewise, him masturbating himself, our senses melted as one. Within the grip of twitching pubic spasm, the streaming seconds of spurting hot cum, the gush of sweet blessed orgasm, we flashed to the higher planes of ecstasy. In the sweated afterglow, the blissful mutual cumming seemed to end all too quickly. If only, I thought, you could stay right there in perpetual pleasure. Silence filled the brevity of gasping and panting.
My faux dick kept its rigid persistence, while his soaked penis began to deflate. Slowly we were back to the reality of conventional conformity. Fantasy, the dream world, someone I once knew called it the Necrospace, the alternate realm which was another reality. Inside my head, 'what if' flashed like a neon sign announcing the next X-rated movie at the local adult theater. Oh yeah, what if we could remain eternally in that exotic erotic mindscape? Orgasm upon orgasm, streams of cumming for the heightened explosion of the senses.
I sucked in a breath and imagined the walls covered in his milky cum blasts. Buckets of cum splattering in massive streams of spray, painting an awesome artistry of carnal unity. While describing the exhilaration of what cannot be fully described, the erupting orgasms and cum flooded rub of our bodies, I sensed the regretful ending of our blessed escapade.
"I'm okay with this, or that, you're a good teacher, thank you," he murmured softly, broke the silence and stared at my body. "You're gorgeous, so smart, experienced, I'm really grateful for working with you, you're an amazing person. I wanna know more, teach me."
"You betcha," I gave him with a grin. "Next time, maybe Kitty and I team teach."
Gently, he ran his strong hands over my neatly shaved pubis, up to my navel and across my breast. With a thrilled shiver, I smiled and toyed with his cock, greased, gleaming from lubricant and dripping with young ample amounts of cum. My fingers gripped him, he groaned, and a couple of droplets squeezed out of the bulbous head and oozed onto my hand. Woody shrank from hardened tree trunk to wilting flower. I sighed and wanted more, my turn to get fucked.
"Oh god that feels good," he muttered from deep inside the twitch of his groin.
"Likewise," I accepted and returned the compliment. "Back on task," I started and shifted the focus. "Let's get dressed and figure out how this place plays into the murder."
"Get the feeling we're being watched?" Woody asked after fully clothed again.
"Yep, I certainly do," I whispered and zipped my pants. "I've never actually seen them, but supposedly the structural design contains hidden passages throughout the place."
"Some like to be voyeurs," Woody added and seemed a little tired from the look on his face. "What?" He asked with a boyish grin. "You're staring at me with that gaze of yours."
"Yep, kinda eating you up on one end, and guessing you're a just a tad exhausted."
"You wore me out, boss, that was some incredible fucking and sucking." He smiled.
"And, yes, people used to want watch from those hidden places," I answered his original speculation and stood closer to him. "But, there were rumors of others."
