She awoke to the slam of a door. Someone had walked into the room. She felt the bed shift beside her and she pulled against her restraints, licking her lips in anticipation. She felt his mouth hot on hers, his tongue forcing into her mouth and plundering the soft crevices. She fought against the restraints, trying to push against him, trying to push her tongue into his mouth, trying to hold his head close to her as she was consumed by his deepening kiss. His mouth left suddenly, she could feel him shift, and then sensed his breath between her thighs. His tongue snaked out and licked the soft, shaved lips of her pussy.
She tried to spread her legs, wanting him to probe deeper with that wicked tongue, wanting him to do what was still illegal in some states to her moist pussy. He held her legs closed. She cried out his name... something incoherent. She heard him chuckle under his breath. She heard the sound of a soft motor somewhere... a vibrator. He tied her ankles together, and she felt a finger push into her quickly, and then pull out, covered with her juices. The motor became louder and then muffled as she felt it on her pussy lips, being pushed into the watery folds of her sex. He rubbed it against her throbbing clit; she felt it pumping faster and harder against her blood-engorged bud, bringing her closer to the edge of sexual oblivion.
Oh, she wanted to jump off that edge and into the abyss. She begged him with her moans and whimpers, tossing her head from side to side restlessly. He pushed the vibrating cock into her sex, breaking the barrier of her innocence in a gush of her juices and blood. She squealed in pain and delight as she fell teetered on the brink of the void, her muscles tensing and contracting at the tingle and tickle of a sensation that threatened to rack her body.
She was so close. She felt his mouth again, sucking at her clit, taking her closer to the chasm again as he sucked the shuddering bud into his mouth and plundered it with his rough velvet tongue. He left her sex and lifted her bottom off of the bed, positioning her on his thighs as he kneeled. Her ankles were placed on his shoulder and the vibrator continued its torturous delight in her sopping cunt.
She felt his fingers probing her wet sex and then move down to her ass, smearing the flood of her sweet sap against the tight entry of her backside hole. She felt a finger pushing against it, meeting some resistance. He didn’t stand for it and pushed his finger into her roughly. She gasped as she felt another unattainable orgasm building inside of her and the new sensations of having something in her unsullied ass. He pumped his finger in and out of her asshole in time to her gasps. He was getting her ready for him, she knew it. He stopped finger-fucking her back door and she felt the head of his cock pushing against it. She could feel the large purple crest of his penis pushing relentlessly, fighting to get into her...
She awoke drenched in sweat as her alarm blared in her ear. She looked at the clock. 7:32 AM... shit, she was late again. These dreams always kept her in La-La Land on the worst days. She snuggled into the covers and relished the dream that pleasured her every month, sometimes more. But she never came! She never got to cum in any of those dreams, only close enough to drive her mad. Frustrated, Kayla threw back the covers and groggily sat up. She finally got to her feet, fighting back the head rush that was inevitable every time she was hurried to get to school.
It was the spring of 1996. She was a junior in high school, a dangerous beauty with a quick wit and a clever tongue. Boys and men who were not afraid to venture outside of the stereotypical and mindless beauties of cheerleaders and school athletic girls followed her, whispering to each other about the rare beauty she possessed. Those that were afraid to enter the underground world of deeper, uncommon beauty took second glances in her direction and used the image of her body for the hard orgasms they sought alone at night in their beds. Her body was delicious, full of ripe curves and toned muscles.
She wasn’t the typical beauty of most high school fantasies; her breasts were ripe, but not overly full and stuffed with pads and push-up contraptions. Her waist was slender, her stomach flat and hard. Her hips were graceful, begging to be grasped in strong hands. She had long slender legs that were muscled from years of swimming. She had the face of a wanton, her eyes were large and liquid, and her mouth full, red, and ripe, begging to be tasted and nibbled likes succulent fruit. Her skin was pale, her face sculpted. Her hair was between red and brown, cut below her ears, and wild with curls that were hastily tucked behind her ears and swept away from her forehead. She was almost oblivious to her beauty, taking more pride in her intelligence, and her flirtatious nature that made men painfully hard, and witless boys spew their seed at night with her illicit vision in their heads and her name upon their lips.
Oh Kayla!
She ignored most of the boys. She was oblivious to their whispering wants and cruel tongues when she dismissed them in her mind. One boy was the only person she let invade her mind. She knew it wasn’t really that extraordinary, just a fantasy. He sat with her in math, the last period of the day. He was the captain of the football team, a heavenly superficial dream of tanned muscles, blue eyes, a killer smile and sensuous lips.
Jeff... his charm was unavoidable. He captured hearts at a glance, a smile, a laugh. He was gorgeous, brilliant, gentle and desired. He was everything she tried to avoid. He was the opposite of everything she wanted to represent. She wanted someone reckless, passionate, consuming. Someone who would compliment her, someone she could fulfill. As the semester dragged on, the unlikely pair became closer friends, more than hallway acquaintances. She found something deeper within him, something she unintentionally hunted in a man. They sought each other out at parties, creating a fragile world in which only they were allowed. Everyone else was an invited guest. They continued like this for months. And still, the dreams came... .
The end of the year came; Jeff graduated, and left the same week without a word. Kayla tried not to think about it, she consumed herself in work and waited for her last year of high school to shelter her from thinking. Eventually she forgot him. Easily she slipped beyond his memory and she continued with her life without him. The year ended abruptly, and she was gone. She sought out a life that required more. She wanted the adventure, the change of scenery that was reckless and hazardous. She moved to New York within a month of graduating, taking a scholarship at a liberal arts college. She met incredible people that thought like her, and men. Men who worshipped her.
They congregated outside of her classes, waiting for her to emerge and walk into their lives. She was flattered, amused, and uninterested. She flirted with them, making them crazy with wanting, pushing them to the edge, and leaving them there balancing on a wire that she could cut at any moment. She knew what she asking for, even though she tried to ignore it. She told herself that none of them would dare to touch her, to hurt her in retribution for her careless flirtations that verged on the threshold of torture.
She made a habit of visiting local clubs, seeking companionship worthy of her attentions. She danced provocatively, wantonly, like a harlot seeking her next customer. She wanted that consuming, reckless, dangerous shamelessness. Someone who could devour her core, could control her, could take her completely and make her his own. And at the same time, she was unwilling to let her guard down to let any man try his hand at her unspoken dare. When they came too close to their goal, she simply sauntered off, out of their lives to start anew with another man.
Kayla was in her apartment, dressing for the evening out with friends, knowing that they would end up at the club... The Lure. Such a tacky name, she thought. She let her hair down, allowing it fall, a wild array of curls that framed and sometimes partly concealed her face. She painted her lips red, glossy and crimson, like wet, glistening cherries. She put on her eye makeup, making her eyes look smoky and dangerously penetrating. She slipped a tight black dress over her toned body and curves. It was a sleeveless tight-knit dress that was cut above her knees, and slit on both sides to reveal her hips and her shapely thighs. She wore no panties, just a pair of black thigh-highs that anyone could see the lacey tops of when she swayed her hips. She slipped on a pair of black heels and took a last glance at herself in the mirror before walking out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Several friends were piled into a car, all awaiting her arrival. She scooted into the back seat and the car took off, heading towards the dimming lights of downtown. They approached the club, watching the line of people trying to make their way past the selective bouncers into an "invitation only" fête. Kayla wasn’t worried, she knew the bouncers, and knew them well enough to let her into such exclusive affairs.
She also knew the owner, and one way or another she would find a way in to play out the night as she always did... in a subconscious search of that soul-consuming love. After the driver had parked, they made their way to the front of the line, looking over several regulars that seemed to be quite upset at their denial of entry. Kayla thought it odd that some of these people weren’t allowed in. They knew the bouncers, the staff, and the managers. They knew more people on this scene than she did! As she approached the front of the line, she saw why so many people were denied.
A new bouncer was given the duty of singling out people who could enter. Those who were on his list were allowed in. Others were not, no matter how important they seemed to think they were to the club’s economy. He looked somewhat familiar to Kayla, but she dismissed it. Perhaps he was one of the men who followed her like witless fops on campus. She would have noticed him. He had dark coffee-colored hair, short and slightly spiked, piercing ice-blue eyes, and roped muscles that bunched reflexively beneath his tight black shirt and faded blue jeans. He stood at least four inches over six feet tall, making him appear even more intimidating as he waved away riled customers.
He looked dangerous and bona fide. He was pure male. He was gorgeous. Kayla stepped behind a small crowd of people cruelly berating the bouncer for merely doing his job. He waved the people away, saying he was sorry in a sincere voice. As they cleared for the next torrent of angry clubbers, Kayla stepped up, putting on her most alluring smile. She stood with one leg extended outward, her hip, thigh, and lacey-topped stocking revealed through the slit on the side of her dress. She put a hand on her hip and licked her lips. He seemed not to notice her at all. He looked at her eyes the whole time, never looking below her neck, treating her like he was ignorant to her seductive attempts at winning him over.
"Name?" he asked.
"Montgomery." She stated plainly. She waited while he glanced through his list of names, scanning with his finger. She had been unnerved by his flat response to her, and she scowled as he scanned the list again.
"You’re not on here, sorry." He told her with no remorse. She tried her pout again, but he gestured her away, and waited for the next wave. Her friends had become annoyed and were mulling over where to go from here. They decided on another discotheque a few blocks away. They beckoned for her to come, but she simply shook her head and waved good-bye. She was going to win this petty battle. She’d never had a man refuse anything to her before, and she’d be damned if it was going to start now.
