I had reached the entrance of the dome but stopped. I couldn't leave Darcie in there. I felt tired, drained. I was supposed to recharge in here, not lose more energy. I needed to find Darcie, and I needed, somehow, to charge up.
I turned back.
I circled the throng of dancers, feeling the music echo in my bones, shaking my guts. Darcie was in there somewhere. I needed to refocus, regain my willpower. Find her, recharge, get out. Find her, recharge, get out.
The mass of dancers was in front of me. I dove in, trying to make my way towards where I had last seen Darcie. Soon I was pressed on all sides, touched, scraped, fondled. Hands snaked across my thighs and back. My hand drifted again flesh, my chest pressed agains the back of a dancer. My cock hardened, squeezed between folds of sweaty flesh. All I could see around me was the bouncing heads of my fellow dancers, hair flying in the dark air. Below the shoulders was just flesh.
I let the rising energies take me, rile me. I leaned into a tight knot of writhing bodies, arms spread. I let them take my weight, holding me up. The sheer overstimulation of the moment allowed me to shut everything out. My body was being pressed on all sides, so I focussed on a point. My fingertip was resting on the crest of a smooth hip. The palm of my other hand was cupping the curved rise of an ass. A hairy thigh was rubbing agains mine. A smooth thigh was rubbing against my other thigh. My knee was bumped, hard, probably bruised, by another knee. My foot was stomping the ground. Dust was gathering between my toes.
A soft breast was pressed against the side of my back, the small hard nipple a pin against my rib. I dropped my hand and reached back, tracing a smooth landscape of flesh with my palm until a wiry softness brushed my fingertips. I split a tangle of hair, cupped the tender flesh of a pussy. Moist heat filled my palm. I matched her rhythm to maintain contact.
My other hand snakes forward, wrapping around the waist of someone dancing in front of me. I pull them tighter to me, pressing my hard cock between the folds of their ass. We all dance, the mass of us, jumping up and down. My attention is on the moistness gathering in my palm, the sweaty flesh against my other hand, and the pressure on my cock as it slides between the globes of an ass.
I felt the heat rise in me, the tension in the gut that wants out, wants to jump out of the tip of my cock in a jet of warm cum. I resisted the urge, focussing instead on the arc that linked palm to palm, moist pussy to sweating flesh. I felt the mass of dancers, connected as they were by the beat of the music, by the sweat they shared. My cock was my antenna, connected into that mass of dancing flesh, taking that heat, filing my belly. I curled my finger, parted the lips of the soft pussy that bounced against my palm. Wet heat swallowed my finger. I curled my finger and pressed my palm against the hard nub of a clit. The dancing motion of her hips did the work, rubbing the clit agains the pad of my palm. My finger slid in and out in time with her dancing.
I felt her clench, stumble, a hand (her hand?) clutched my shoulder as an orgasm shot through her. I felt an electric charge bounce across the dancing throng, bouncing from dancer to dancer, gathering strength. My cock-antenna intercepted it, gathered it, sending it to my belly to store. Fuck. I knew suddenly what power was. My cock was rock hard, but I was far from cumming now. I knew what I wanted. More power.
I pushed through the dancing throng, a snarl on my lips, baring my fangs.The dancers were caught in the music, the high of the ecstasy. I was different. I had caught the scent of wet pussy, warmed my belly with the heat of that moist crucible. The trick I learned, the deep breathing taught in that other tent we had visited, it had changed how I saw the people around me. I was a wolf, and they were sheep.
I pressed myself against the back of a female dancer, my hips matching hers, my hands wrapped around her belly and her chest. She let her head fall back onto my shoulder, her long brown hair fragrant with her sweat, her ass pressing against my hard cock. I grabbed her by the throat, pulling her tight against me. My other hand dove across her belly, past the remains of a belt, into a small pair of panties. I felt her moan, the sound muffled by the pounding music.
I found her cunt, soft, bare, moist. I cupped it in my hand, feeling the long line of her lips against my palm, the heel of my hand pressed against her clit. She pushed her ass against me, her mouth open, her eyes closed. I let go of her throat just long enough to push my cock down, between her thighs. I was suddenly hit by a vision of Darcie with that first man, holding her, his cock between her thighs. I pushed her panties aside to let my cock slide between the wet folds of her sex, the tip bumping agains her pubic bone. I pushed it down, in, feeling the length of it disappear between her lips. My other hand is back on her throat, and then I started really pushing.
Pressed as we were by the bodies around us, there was not much room. But we didn't need much, My fingers on her pussy were spreading her wetness across her lips, her clit, drawing deep circles across her sex. My cock was moving just a few inches, pushed more by the bodies buying into us than anything else, the rhythm set by the music. Her pussy was a wet hot sleeve around my cock. I wasn't going to cum from this, which was fine. That wasn't the point.
I closed my hand on her throat, drawing her closer to me, kissing the nape of her neck and nibbling her ear, tasting the dusty sweat on her skin.She turned her head, hungry for a kiss. Our tongues met, lapping at each other as our heated breath mingled.
I had let go of her pussy, my hand instead drifting out, away from us. I traced the length of an arm, past a soft round shoulder, and cup the sweaty head of a dancer nearby. I pulled the dancer close, bringing her, or him, closer. I stopped kissing the woman I was fucking and turned her head to receive the kiss of the dancer I had pulled in. They kissed eagerly.
I reached out some more, pulling in hands and bodies, placing arms around us, drawing more people in. Bodies were pressed around us and against us, forming a small cell of bodies unified by our skins and the pleasure of the woman in the center of it.
Hands drifted across us, across our backs and legs, asses and thighs. Fingers dipped in her pussy and asshole, or cupped my balls and helped me thrusting in and out of the pussy so generously receiving me. Someone sucked on her nipples, though all I could see was the top of a head. Hands pushed my hips, slid across my thighs. Our act was being shared by the crowd around us. I thought I saw my partner's hand holding on to a hard cock. I let it all in, the heat of the crowd melding with the heat of her pussy as it clamps on my cock.
She came. I felt her around my cock, felt her pulse against my hand around her throat. She bucked and shook against me, her spasm driving my cock in and out of her, drawing more pleasure from her sex. I pulled her face to me, kissing her. I breathed her air as she gasped, our tongues still intertwined. I drew her pleasure into my cock, up my spine and into my brain, launching a firework of white and gold behind my eyes.
Finally she stops and I pull out of her. Hands drift across our sweaty bodies, eager to touch. I let them, barely registering as fingers close around my cock, wet as it is from warm pussy juice. Someone tried to jerk me off but I pushed them away. I stumbled forward, away from the crowd. It would be easy to get carried away.
The fireworks in my head set me off into another phase. I felt almost disembodied, stoned, vibrating. My teeth were chattering so I clamped my jaw down. I needed to find Darcie.
Finally I saw her. Darcie was close to the Horned God, close to that inner circle of women. I pushed my way through the crowd, anxious to pull her away from there. The memory of the woman disappearing into ash was still fresh in my mind.
Before I could reach her, Darcie had stepped through the circle of gyrating women. Whereas they were all on their knees, ass up, pussy obscenely displayed to Him, she was standing, poised.
She stepped up to Him, three small steps. It did not look like he even saw her, as his face was turned up to the dark sky above us. I pushed my way closer, but stopped at the ring of women, watching, terrified.
Darcie knelt and, slowly, took his small soft penis into her mouth.
He looked down. But he didn't move. It was as if he could not quite register what was happening.
I could tell from Darcie's position that his cock had grown hard in her mouth. She started a slow pumping motion, her head dipping up and down in a slow rhythm. Her hands were clasped in her lap, not touching him, so that the only point of contact was the ring of her lips sliding up and down the slim shaft of his cock.