The full moon was that weekend.
By now Mike had settled into a Roy routine: check in with Lisa Galvan, then Alice; call in to work from home; pack; and then head up the coast with plenty of time before the traffic hit and the moon rose.
But today half a dozen things stole his time: The car had an unexpected flat; a conversation with the manager of the bungalow court took an hour longer than it should have; and finally towing a visitor's car that had blocked the carport exit for half the residents. By the time he locked his suitcase, Mike could practically feel the moon below the horizon, just waiting to rise.
He checked his watch: Sixty minutes to moonrise. Shit. Maybe if he got on the road now, that would be enough to keep Roy pointed in the right direction. Maybe. But he should call Alice just in case-
There was a pounding on his door.
"Mike! Mike! It's us! Open up!" The first voice was familiar. But there was a second voice in the background, muttering and giggling.
"What the hell?" he opened the door. "Traci?"
"Hiya, daddy!" She hugged him and swayed past into the living room.
She wore a silvery sheath that trickled down her torso and caressed her breasts, her stomach, and her upper thighs. Behind her came another girl with mocha skin, an explosion of floating black hair, and the abs of a belly dancer; her voluptuousness was wrapped in a single blue-and-gold scarf that twisted down her body from her left shoulder to her right leg.
"This is Raisa," said Traci, as she sprawled on his couch.
"Hi," said Raisa. "I love your bungalow thing."
Mike opened his mouth, and the club smell smashed him in the face: a combination of alcohol, sweat, pot, soap, perfume...and lust. The girls smelled like every late night he'd ever had.
"How long have you been up?"
"Could I get some water?" said Traci.
He pointed behind him. "Cups above the sink," he said. Traci pouted for a moment, then got up and went to the kitchen.
"We had a disco nap in the cab," said Raisa. "But Traci's roommate needed the apartment tonight. And anyway, it's out in Pacific Palisades, and you were nearby..." She gave him a look that was half apology, half something else. "It is okay, right?"
"How'd you-" he was about to say
know my address,
but he shut his mouth. Of course Traci had it from work. And it didn't matter, anyway. It was sixty minutes to Roy Hour. Time to get moving.
"Of course it's okay," he smiled. After all, the price of sex with a twentysomething was being involved in the life of a twentysomething, and it wasn't like he had anything valuable in his one-bedroom permanent bachelor pad. "My place is yours. There's eggs and fruit in the fridge, and fresh sheets in the hall closet. But I'm out the door." Traci had come back with a glass of orange juice. He tossed her a spare key.
"But it's the weekend, Daddy." She pouted and gave a him a long look from her blue eyes. He practically doubled over from lust. God, she knew how to push his buttons. "Can't you stick around with us? I told Raisa about you."
Oh, my GOD.
Mike fought to keep himself from yammering like a horny monkey. Traci grinned, seeing his jaw drop. She sauntered closer and ran cool fingers through his hair.
"I didn't come here for a bed," she murmured. "Well, not
just
for a bed. I came here for
you.
" She licked his ear.
That did it. Moonrise was still an hour away, but it didn't matter. The change was on him.
Mike gasped as his body cramped and he fell to the floor.
This was the first time he had ever made the change in front of somebody else. It was...different.
He could hear their voices, Traci and Raisa, but far away, as if underwater. His heartbeat drowned out what they were saying. But their hands reached out to touch him, to help, and as soon as they did -- fireworks.
When he opened his eyes on the floor, surrounded by the shreds of his old clothes, the first things he saw were the girls, staring at him wide-eyed.
"Those edibles, Trey," said Raisa. "They are amazing."
"I know, right?" said Traci.
"Should...should we?"
Traci stared down at him, her face a mask of hunger. "I don't know about you, Rai-rai," she said. She reached down, grabbed the hem of her sheathe dress and pulled up, leaving her naked except for silvery panties. "But I know what I need."
She crouched astride his chest and bent down, her tongue invading his mouth, conquering it, while her hands held him by the ears and her hair fell around him. The hot dampness of her crotch moistened his chest while she grunted above him.
Her tongue was fierce on his, urgent, demanding -- and then gone. She'd sat up and twisted back. "Enough for everyone, girlfriend," she said.
"Gonna watch a little first," came Raisa's voice. "You are
so
sexy."
Traci bent back over him, her lips on his forehead, his ears, his neck, her long fingers holding him still, her tongue licking him. "Oh my God, how do you taste so good?" she growled. "Right here," she said, exposing her neck to his lips, his tongue.
He kissed her, then licked her, her scent deep in his nostrils, enhancing the taste of her skin: salt sweat, smoke, herbs, and somehow, her more intimate juices -- it couldn't be, but it was -- just a hint of her pussy, somehow through her sweat.
He was hard as steel. He could feel precum oozing down his cock, coating his balls.
"Bite me," said Traci. "But gentle." Her voice had a tone of command he'd never heard before. She straightened just a little, and her breast filled his mouth, pink tip to the tip of his tongue, cone of pale flesh opening his lips. He ran his tongue over the hard nub, then position his teeth, nibbling and sucking.
Traci inhaled sharply. "Oh, God. More!" She laughed sharply, then cut it off with a little
eep!
as Roy...Mike?...went back to work.
He switched to the other breast, biting and suckling, his hands entwined with hers, holding her up by her straightened arms.
"Oh, oh, oh," she muttered.
Somewhere behind her, he heard a frantic rubbing sound. Wood creaked as Raisa's body shifted on the recliner. She grunted softly as she came.
"Now?" said Traci.
"Hell, yes," said Raisa.
He felt two warm, moist hands wrap around his cock.
"Damn," said Raisa. "Goldicock, it's just right." Traci laughed, as Raisa's hands glided from his base to the tip, again and again, over and over relentlessly.
"Taste him," said Traci. "Trust me."
He felt two lips on his tip, then the tongue as Raisa pressed down. He felt her moan in delight around his dick, then she was moving up and down frantically.
His hands were full of Traci's hips and ass; his mouth was filled with her breast, and the damp heat of her crotch moistened his chest. Below, he felt Raisa's tongue, lips, and hands, never still, coaxing hardness into-
-into-
Explosion.
He came once, twice, three, four, five spasms, and he heard Traci and Raisa scream and laugh with surprise. And then tongues-
"Oh my God, it's like sweet cream."
"Sex cream."
More licking, and he was hard again, that fast.
"Kiss me," said Traci, but she was talking to Raisa. He saw them bend toward each other, heard their lips meet. They settled on his torso, with Traci scooping up his jizz with one finger and feeding it to Raisa.
"Mmm..." Raisa murmured. She ground her hips up and down on him, feeling his muscles with her core, finally pushing back and back until he felt the shock of her hot, hairy lower lips touching the helmet of cock.
"Wait!" said Traci to Raisa. "I want to see you. All of you." Raisa smiled, slow and sensual. She stood and her whole body twitched, once. Her sari came loose at the shoulder and drifted down and away, revealing a ripe, dark, belly dancer's body.
"Oh, baby," said Traci.
