Messalina: Devourer of Men Read Free Page B

his thumb gently rubs the top of my clitoris. My hips jerk up and I gasp. He increases his hold on me while clamping his mouth onto my neck, just like the big cats do to restrain their prey.
    His lips open to suck in the flesh of my neck into his mouth before biting down. His teeth dig in and hold before releasing and repeating the process. He’s found my weak spot. I have a thing for necks and, although they may look trashy, I love hickies. These malignant bruises serve as the calling cards of heavy petting. I love giving and receiving them. But despite his amorous assault on my neck, I get caught up with the feel of his two, three—four—fingers pumping inside me. Aww— fuck ! He’s about to get a real orgasm out of me! It’s evident by the moist, sucking sounds coming from me. I’m almost there.
    “God damn, Evadne, you’re so wet,” he says with such awe it only thrills me more and this time my groan is louder than expected.
    My eyelids pop open and I remember we are not alone. Focusing my eyes, I count less than six people sitting in the rows behind us but they’re on the opposite side of the theater. From what I can tell, they’re all watching the screen. Then I see one man sitting in the row directly behind us but several seats to the left.
    He wears a white T-shirt and stares directly at us, unashamed. Hearing a muted, squelching sound, I glance down and see his lightweight jacket lying across his lap, bobbing up and down.
    Catching my breath, I don’t know whether to stop Jared and bring the man to his attention. But he’s about to rip a climax from me and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sacrifice it. I open my mouth slightly in expectation, so does Jerk-Off Man who mouths the words I love you as his hand pumps harder and faster.
    Instead of moaning, I scowl at our voyeur and his face crumbles as he shoots his wad. I make sure he sees me take Jared’s earlobe into my mouth to nibble on it and I think, Yeah, buddy you wish you could have some of this. Jared moans and licks at my throat in return.
    “Touch me,” he begs from against my neck and his strained voice startles me. I reach between his legs and encounter a sharp rise in his jeans. He moves back and I unzip his pants and fumble for the opening. Once inside, I give his swollen cock a squeeze and he sighs as if I’ve done him a great favor.
    “Oh, yes,” he whispers and rests his forehead against my temple.
    A slight tug gets his whole length out. His cock is getting thicker as blood rushes to swell it, making the skin tight. My God, it feels lovely, like a thick pipe wrapped in warm suede. Then, as to be expected, a scene change lights up the room, allowing me a better look.
    During my theater adventures, I have encountered a lot of men of different races and have concluded that there is no accurate way to guess a man’s penis size by looks alone. You have to experience him, literally, first hand.
    And my chest heaves at the thought of getting fucked senseless by his cock. It’s long and thick and the tip of its swollen head is moist. I lick my lips, wishing for a taste—but that goes against my rules.
    His thumb presses my clitoris once again and I have to bury my face in the curve of his neck to keep from crying out. I grab his wrist and start guiding him, pumping his hand, making him fist fuck me harder, faster, and when he touches my clit again, I come, for the first time in ages, all over his creative, talented fingers.
    The world falls out from under me and I’m on a roller coaster going down a bottomless pit. My orgasm goes on and on, overflowing and spilling onto the seat.
    “Ah, lovely,” he sighs. “That’s it, sugar. Oh, yes , darlin’. . . give it to me.”
    And I do. I want to. But I’m not going to be alone in this. I pump my fist tighter and faster along his cock until his essence drips onto my hand providing me with just enough to lubricate my strokes. Jared thrusts, ever so slightly and I apply more pressure to