Old Fashioned

By Ana and Melvin Melons

“How do you always know when I’m masturbating?” My wife’s voice came through the speakers, and I nearly swerved off the road from a sudden change in blood flow.

I swallowed the last bit of my lunch and replied. “That’s my line, but it’s because I get a tingle in my balls when you’re thinking about my junk.”

She laughed. “Well, I was thinking about your junk, but it was another woman who was giving it a big lick while she was riding my face.”

The hunger in her voice stirred more than just arousal. The fantasy was icing on a cupcake made of trust, intimacy, and permission, wrapped in bright foil burning with pure desire.

Ana continued, “Then she said, ‘Melvin, please give it to me, I want you to overflow my mouth, so it runs down my chin and onto your wife’s big tits.’ And I was really close, but I knew if I answered and talked to you first I’d be able to cum much harder.”

Her laugh lit up my day, and her words fired up my groin. A shiver zipped through my body from head to toe. “Oh, Tell me more about her.”

Ana sighed whimsically as she described her to me. “She has dark hair and tattoos. She’s a little more dominant than we’re used to, but we like it.”

It felt like a surge of electricity that started between my shoulder blades and down my back to the soles of my feet after a quick but unmissable pit stop. “Talking like that will make my pants uncomfortably tight in a hurry. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I’d love to see that.” Ana’s voice was sultry with a twinge of carnal lust. It was times like this I knew she missed my touch as much as I missed hers.

I shifted in my seat and glanced down. There was an unmistakable bulge on my right thigh. I pulled over, grabbed the phone, and snapped a quick picture for her. It took forever to send with the poor signal in these rural areas. When it finally went through, I got back on the road.

I could hear the chime of her phone over the speakerphone. It was a brief silence, but also an intolerably long wait for her reply. I’d been away from home for about 3 weeks, and I was missing her, which made me feel a little desperate for her approval.

A satisfied purr rumbled in her throat. “I love that I have that effect on you. I’m saving this to my spank bank.” Her vibrator kicked on, and her breath quickened. She started to moan, then cried out a gasp and a scream.

“Goddamn! That was fast.” I grinned as I spoke. There was nothing hotter than a woman getting off to me except when my wife does.

She gasped and giggled as she spoke. “Yeah, I love that you have that effect on me.”

It was nearly too much. I wanted to pull over and run into the woods to drop my pants right by the highway to take care of things in the wild, the way nature intended.

Ana spoke and dashed any hope of rapid relief from my mind. “I want you to save it for me. I want to see it tonight before you go to bed.”

She was such a tease, she knew what she did to me, and I knew that I couldn’t deny her. As compelled as I was to take care of this as soon as possible I knew she’d make it so much better for me if I was patient. With a hint of begrudging excitement, I told her I would wait.

We finished up the call talking about our days. We spoke until I was pulling into a parking spot in the apartment building where I had rented a furnished unit for the month. We said our goodbyes as I walked to my door.

As we were about to hang up, she quickly chirped, “You should go get something nice for dinner. Wasn’t there a Cajun restaurant down the street? You should sit at the bar top and get some social time.” It sounded like a good idea; I was sick of frozen taquitos and chicken nuggets anyway. I took a quick shower and pondered what I wanted to order.”

I threw on a purple T-shirt that says, “I’m just here to make people horny.” Ana bought it; she was giddy when she gave it to me. I wonder sometimes if I’d have the confidence to wear it if not for the mischievous and irresistible way she sees me. The way she looks at me makes me feel unstoppable. I finished the outfit with a pair of blue jeans.

I walked to the place, went inside, and headed straight for the bar. It was an odd hour between lunch and dinner, so the bar was empty. I took a seat near the end across from the well where the bartender would be mixing drinks.

It was a casual restaurant, green padded chairs and aluminum tables filled the room. The walls had a collection of stereotypical Cajun restaurant décor, like a taxidermy alligator head and mural depicting Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras.

While I waited, I pulled out my phone and started texting Ana again. I told her that I had made it to the Cajun place, and I was waiting for the bartender. She replied, starting a brief back and forth. “I hope she’s hot.”

“You don’t know that it’s even a woman.” I replied. As I waited for her answer I took another look around the room. There was a cutting board and knife nearby. It was a good knife, much too good for the establishment. There was a wooden sheath with a magnetic strip on it nearby. Written in black on the side was the name “NIKKI”. On the wall behind it was a magnetic knife rack. There was a severed Halloween prop arm nailed to a 2x4 above it and a sign that read “Nikki’s fruit Knife, DO NOT TOUCH.”

Ana’s reply came through. “It is a woman, she’s hot, and she’ll be into you. I get a tingle in my nipples when a woman is about to hit on you.”

I let out a skeptical snort followed by a light chuckle. I tell people I married her for her whit and sense of humor. But it’s simply a fact of life that clever and funny chicks with extra-sensory nipples are sexier than those without.

“I don’t know about that.”

“How accurate are they?”

“Can they lie to you?”

Ana replied again, quicker this time. “I’m pretty confident. It’s the left one. Bigger boob, bigger brain, so she’s the smarter one. I don’t know if the right one is a liar or it’s just an idiot. Maybe it detects something else that I’ve yet to realize.”

The kitchen door swung open, and a woman walked out and stepped behind the bar. She was in her thirties wearing a white long-sleeved restaurant branded T-shirt, blue jeans, and non-slip sneakers that looked super comfortable. As she leaned over, I could see that her black hair was up in a bun, with an undercut on the left side. She had a hole for a nose ring that she wasn’t wearing, and I could see tattoos peeking out around the collar and wrists. She smiled and walked over to me, introduced herself as Nikki, welcomed me, and asked if I needed a menu. I didn’t, I told her I wanted a shrimp po boy, a bowl of gumbo to go, and a rye whiskey old fashioned with muddled blackberry, if they have it, of course.

Her smile grew into a wide grin, and she leaned forward. She studied me with her eyes. “I like your shirt.” She said. “You’re definitely putting the message out there.”

I looked down at my chest. “What does it say? My wife bought it for me and I’m color blind.”

Nikki grinned mischievously, studying me again. “I normally wouldn’t, but I can’t resist a man that knows exactly what he wants.” She winked and leaned up from the bar. “They use blackberries for the cheesecake, so they have some in the kitchen.” She turned and walked to the end of the bar then stopped and turned to look at me, her mouth already open and ready to speak. “And blackberries are, like, four bucks for those little 6oz boxes so they’re going to be pissed at me, but like I said. I can’t resist.”

I gave her a grin back. “I promise not to abuse the privilege.”

She raised her eyebrows and grabbed the knife and set it aside before hoisting up the large cutting board and stepping through the kitchen door again. “Corner!” I heard her voice as the door swung shut.

I looked down at my phone and found more texts from Ana.

“So, what’s the verdict?

“You’re not responding right away so I know she’s there.”

“OMG these nips are tingling like crazy, I have to know.”

I typed out a quick reply “You were right, It’s a woman, she’s hot, and she’s into me.”

My phone chimed, “I’m always right.” Then another chirp, “Is she a bitch?”

I snickered. “Maybe. But if she is she seems like a cool bitch.” I sat my phone down on the bar and tapped my fingers to the rhythm of a song in my head.

The phone rang. Ana was requesting a video call. I looked around the room, still alone except for a few staff trying to hide that they’re on their phones. I accepted the call and leaned over my phone. There was Ana, my gorgeous goddess. She was in the living room, sunlight shining in through the sliding door was cascading onto her dirty blonde hair. Her soft blue eyes blinked, and her lips parted showing her magnificent smile. I smiled back “Hey Beautiful.”

“Hey,” she said as she took a seat on the couch. She pulled the phone away and plopped down with a lascivious smile making sure to catch her boobs bouncing for me. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked directly into the camera. “I was going to ask what she looks like but you’re terrible at describing people.”

I chuckled. “Good luck, I’m not pointing the phone at her.”

She feigned a look of disappointment. “Well, then I’ll just have to get her to come to the phone.”

When Nikki returned from the kitchen she carried a small ramekin with some blackberries. “Mission accomplished.” She gave a sarcastic curtsy as she spoke. She came to the well and started mixing the drink. She dropped in a sugar cube and the bitters before tossing in the blackberries and muddling them together. Next came the ice, then whiskey, a quick stir, and finally the orange peel. “Do you want a cherry?”

“Are they maraschino?” Ana’s voice came from my phone.

Nikki leaned over, giving Ana the view she wanted. “They are.”

“No, thank you on the cherry. I’m very particular about my cherries.” Ana continued imitating my voice.

“This is my wife, Ana. I’m Melvin.” I interjected.

She looked down at Ana and then at me. “I’m Nikki.”

“Hi Nikki!” Ana said.

“Hey Ana.” Nikki leaned forward and waved to her then straightened up again.

I bent over the phone. “I’m going to let you go, I don’t want to be rude in the restaurant.”

We said our goodbyes and Ana blew me a kiss. I sipped my drink. The bite from the rye whiskey was complimented by the blackberry. “This is perfect, thank you very much.”

Nikki smiled and nodded. She had finished cleaning and drying the knife and put it back in its sheath. “You betcha! It’s the only one you’re getting,” her voice was playful, but stern as she attached the knife to the magnetic rack.

I laughed. Her accent was coming through more. It was faded but still present. “You’re from the Midwest, Wisconsin?”

She gave a slow clap. “Holy cow, my accent is still that distinct, eh? You betcha, and my mother was a Yooper, so I’ve got a little of that in here too, don’tcha know.” She joked playfully exaggerating her accent.

“So, what brought you all the way down here?” I asked, lifting my drink for another sip.

She straightened up, “That same old story. I followed a boy.”

I nodded. “The fact that you call him a boy tells the rest of the story, doesn’t it?”

Nikki Grinned. “Pretty much sums it up, no job, no ambition, no hygiene.”

I pinched my nose. “Sounds like a real stinker. Where is he now?”

Her voice had a hint of malice wrapped in vindication. “He inherited a lot of money when his aunt died and he invested it poorly so he’s living back home with his parents. The last I checked he’s clinging to the investment and still tells people he’s an entrepreneur.” Nikki let out a loud laugh. “Delusional much?” She walked back over to me. “Speaking of delusional, what’s a beautiful creature like Ana doing with you anyway?”

I leaned back in my chair and made a gesture like I’d been shot in the heart with an arrow. “Ouch.” She put the rag down and crossed her arms waiting on an answer. Before I could reply my phone chimed again.

I glanced down, and the message was displayed on my lock screen. I looked up and Nikki was peering at my phone.

“You should flirt with her and ask her out…” she read aloud. “I can’t say I’ve seen someone’s wife tell them that before.”

“One of the many reasons I love her,” I said picking up the phone to reply.

Nikki braced herself on the bar and bent forward as if trying to look over the top of my phone. “What are you going to say back to her?”

I glanced at her and smiled, then back to my phone. “I’m telling her that I’m not hitting on a woman who is at work and can’t escape my advances. Especially since my enjoyment of the experience is crucial for her to make a living.”

She stepped back, a look of mild surprise on her face. “That’s so damn respectful. Thank you.” She crossed her arms again. “What if I wasn’t at work?”

I noticed my own hesitation, brief as it may have been. It wasn’t doubt, but respect. Ana’s voice in my head gave encouragement, reminding me that honesty and integrity were the keys to a healthy mutual freedom. “In a heartbeat.” I replied. I meant it, despite the fact that I was cataloguing every boundary pushed, evaluating every rule, spoken or not, and double-checking that I wasn’t being selfish. Even though she wasn’t here physically I could still be mindful of her and her needs.

She stepped to the side and opened the dishwasher. She took out the glasses and set them aside to cool. “You know this means I’m going to flirt with you now. Since I know you’re not going to reciprocate, and your wife is encouraging the behavior.”

I nodded. “Please do, she’s definitely a chick magnet.” I took the last sip of my old fashioned and slid her the glass. “I’ll take whatever you like to make.”

“So, a beer then.” She joked, reaching for a glass and a tap handle.

“On second thought, I’m probably good. All things considered, I’m not much of a drinker these days.” I replied. “I’m more of a smoker.”

Nikki feigned a gasp. “You know that devil’s lettuce is illegal in these parts.”

“Oh, I know, not where I live though. I’ve been 3 weeks without that too.” As I spoke she grabbed the soda gun and filled a glass.

“Here, have a pop on the house.” She was being sarcastic, she wasn’t charging me for it, but it was obvious that the house didn’t monitor the soda gun at the bar.

She eyed me. “I could tell you weren’t from around here by your accent too. What brings you down?”

“Work bullshit. Nothing interesting.” While I spoke, I heard a shout from the kitchen.

“Your order is up,” She started, “I’ll be right back.”

She stepped away returning with my sandwich on a plate and my to-go bowl in a bag.

“Here you go, Melvin. Just the way you like. I’d love to do more for you, is there anything you need from me?” Nikki made a point of very obviously adjusting her shirt and pressed her arms together to make her cleavage more noticeable. She bent down and leaned on the bar. I could see her back was arched and her butt was pushed out. She knew what she was doing, and I loved it, but I kept myself in check.

I took a few bites of my sandwich and gave an audible moan to express my satisfaction. “This shrimp is seasoned wonderfully, and the remoulade is fantastic. Could I get a side of it, please?” Nikki stepped back and headed to a nearby cooler. She opened up the door and looked back. Once she saw that I was watching her she bent over at the waist, too far for what the task required. She glanced my way again with mischief tugging the corners of her lips into a grin. “Do you think you could grab one from the back? I just assume you rotate stock so those should be fresher.” She bent over a little further, reached deep into the cooler, grabbed the sauce, and straightened up.

“I portioned the whole tray this morning.” Nikki quipped as she handed me the ramekin of sauce dragging her fingertips across my hand when she withdrew.

I thanked her before removing the lid and pouring the sauce onto my sandwich. She watched me from close by, I could tell she had something on the tip of her tongue and was just waiting for a chance to say it.

“A man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to apply some extra sauce.” She bit her fingernail and gave me an innocent look. I smiled as Nikki continued, “I’ll bet you’re good at glazing things too.”

My pants got uncomfortably tight for the second time that day. I started to reply but with less blood in my brain I couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t respectful of someone on the job.

“I was so close to getting you to break there that I’ve rendered you speechless.” Nikki joked, leaning over to display her cleavage again. I have a lot of willpower and I’m not prone to stammering like an idiot, but she got me. “I’ve got a few customers who take every chance to flirt. It’s interesting to be on the other side of things with someone who is clearly into me.”

I recalled a similar person from my past. “I know exactly how that is. When I was bartending there was a woman who would come in every week, and I could tell she was into me, but she was never flirty. I thought I was crazy, but I wasn’t.

“It’s refreshing.” Nikki remarked as she looked over at me, “There has to be a story about how you found out you weren’t crazy.”

I leaned in close to her. “After I’d quit for a few months, I ran into her at the gym. I was on the elliptical and she got onto the one next to me and started up a conversation with Ana and me. I introduced her to Ana who was on the other side of me. We all ended up in the hot tub together, then the sauna, then we all shared a shower, it was one of those individual locker rooms, so we had the door locked. It was a fun day.”

“No thrill of getting caught though,” Nikki added, “such a shame.”

I scoffed, “I didn’t elaborate on the hot tub and sauna. You’ll have to buy my book for that.”

She let out another loud belly laugh, “What is the book called and where is this book for sale? Asking for a friend.”

“I can have Ana send you a free copy. You should read it too, before you send it to your friend.” I quipped back.

She laughed again then leaned on the counter, her cheek resting in her hand. She looked me in the eyes and smiled. “You crack me up, Melvin.”

“I’m serious, I want to give you Ana’s number so she can send you a free copy.”

Nikki pulled out her phone and unlocked it before handing it to me. I took it and looked at her curiously. “I’m not allowed to use my phone on the floor, you should send the text, so I don’t get in trouble with my manager.” She spoke in a cheeky way.

I prepared a new text and entered Ana’s number. I spoke aloud as I wrote. “Dearest Ana, this is your adoring husband Melvin Melons. Lady Nikki has requested I send word to you that I have offered her a free copy of my book, The Regular. She also requested that you ‘send (bowl of noodles emoji),’ whatever that means.” I paused and glanced at her. “Should I make any changes?”

“My mouth is watering at the thought of those noods.” She joked as she nodded to me. I sent the text.

“I’m sure she’ll believe us, but should I send her an image of us just to be sure?” Nikki struck a pose behind me, and I spun in my chair snapping a picture of us. I made an exaggeratedly lascivious smile while Nikki leaned over my shoulder laughing at my ridiculous grin.

Nikki was catching her breath. “If she’s half as funny as you are I’m probably in trouble.” She paused as I handed her phone back. “She’s already responded with a link and a photo of a bag of flour, a cup of water, a carton of eggs, a shaker of salt, and a pasta maker.”

“I can translate.” I offered.

“Yes, please.” Nikki replied looking up from her phone at me.

“That’s the ingredients for noodles and the tool to make them so I believe she’s saying that we should make ‘noods’.

Nikki let out another laugh, the loudest yet. She turned back to her phone and sent a few texts in reply before quickly putting it away with a glance around to see if anyone noticed.

She took a step back and printed off my check and returned. While handing it to me her fingers brushed lightly against mine. “My shift ends in about 10 minutes.” We went through the process of closing out my tab while I finished my meal and exchanged a few pleasantries before another bartender arrived and the manager came to change out the drawer. I started to get up to leave when Nikki stopped me. “Hold on, I’m not done with you yet.”

I stopped and stayed in my seat. I checked my phone; I had at least a dozen texts from Ana.

“You’re so sexy”

“I’m so wet knowing you’re there with her.”

“You should pursue her; I’d love to see you with her.”

“They’re still tingling so hard, you guys must be hitting it off well.”

“Lots of things are tingling.”

Next was an image. Ana laying back on the couch, her hair tossed over the cushion, her shirt hiked up and a hand down her pants.

“Have fun tonight. Know that when she’s touching you, I’m touching myself.”

So on and so forth until the end where she had sent me an address for a live music bar downtown. This is what a green light looks like, for anyone confused.”

Nikki was back soon. Her work T-shirt was replaced by band shirt partially covered by a leather biker jacket. She had a motorcycle helmet in her arm and a backpack on her shoulder. She walked over and put her hand on my back. “Ana and I agree, you’re coming to a show with me tonight.,” she said. I sent her the details and she’s forwarding them to you.

“I already got them.” I nodded with a smile. Something stirred deep in my chest. Exhilaration and anticipation, but also the weight of the moment. It was always a little frightening to cross certain lines, even with permission and honest enthusiasm. But the apprehension faded quickly when I realized Ana probably had at least three orgasms since her last text.

“I’ll see you there at 9.” It was more of an order than a question.

I wasn’t used to it, so I was intrigued. My natural inclination to disobey an order was overwhelmed by my curiosity. “I can’t wait.” I told her, standing up and looking down to meet her gaze.

“It’s a metal show so you’ll fit in better dressed down. They’re friends of mine, so,” She added as we walked to the door. “Go ahead and go inside. I’ll be there, if you can’t find me right away, keep looking. I’m really excited about this.”

I leaned in close to her and jokingly whispered, “Between you and me, I’m really excited too.” She laughed again, this time reaching out, grabbing my hand, and squeezing.

“I can’t wait to see you there.” Her fingers pressed into my hand again.

We stepped outside and Nikki got onto a black motorcycle and rode away. I called Ana. We caught up during the walk to my apartment and while I got ready. I brushed, flossed, and changed into a different pair of jeans and another purple T-shirt, this one saying, “Don’t get horny around me, I’m an Empath.”

“This all sounds right up your alley.” Ana was excited but her mood quickly changed. She let out a sigh and started pouting. “I wish I could go, but Nikki said there will be a live stream I can watch.”

“That’s good, I’ll make a point to get us in front of the camera.” It wasn’t a hollow promise; I really wanted her to see us together. She’s said it plenty of times before how much she loves watching the way women fawn over me. She enjoys being a voyeur, and I love being an exhibitionist for her.

She shifted the position of the phone, bringing it closer so that her face was the only thing visible. “Are you going to bring her back to the apartment?”

“We’ll see how things go, but definitely.” I paused. “I’ll use the four-step method.”

“OOOOH” Ana’s eyes lit up with a carnal delight. I watched her bathe in the fantasy before she shook it away and changed the subject back. “You need to get going or you’re going to be late.”

I scoffed and teased her, “You’d know a thing or two about being late.”

Ana pretended to be offended. “How dare you!” her sarcastic facial expression faded, and she gave me another warning. “Nikki told me that the doors lock after a certain point.”

“Okay,” I started. I shut my laptop and stood up. “I should get moving then.”

Ana blew me a kiss. “Remember, when she’s touching you, I’ll be touching myself.”

A rush of lascivious thoughts flooded my mind. “How could I forget?”

Ana and I finished our call, and I ordered transportation. A car arrived shortly after, and I hopped in. I used the time to look up the band, they were local, strangely high-quality performances, all female and in character. It was a short ride to the venue; we passed through the downtown traffic fairly easily before we pulled to a large church

There was a large sign at the entrance that said “Riotmode”. The driver dropped me off in front of the doors. The stained-glass over the chapel was the only window that hadn’t been blacked out. The exterior was spray painted with what could only be described as a masterpiece of graffiti style art. The mural was shaped like the word Riotmode, each letter had an image of a boisterously excited crowd cheering or a silhouette of a band performing on a stage.

The driver let me out at the door. I looked up at the building and I took a picture. “This place is called Riotmode and it’s a renovated church!” I sent the message with the image to ana.

Ana replied right away. “That’s so cool. You should go inside; I can’t wait for you to see it.”

She must have already been watching the live stream. I hurried up to the door, excited to get inside. There was no line to get in, I paid the cover, and the door attendant passed me a small bag. Confused, I asked what it was for, and he instructed that I’m supposed to put my phone inside during the show. It seemed off but more common these days so I sent Ana a quick text I wouldn’t be able to speak until after the show, dropped it into the bag, and moved past the velvet ropes.

I stepped through the vestibule into the old chapel, The ceilings were tall and vaulted, on my right was the stage, the instruments were set up and ready for the band. The bar was against the far wall right up next to the stage. The audience wasn’t rowdy, and room wasn’t too full; most everyone was sitting around a table enjoying a drink.

 I didn’t see Nikki anywhere as I took a seat at the bar facing the stage. The bartender offered me a drink, and I told him that I’d start with a beer until my date arrives.

“Do you mean, Nikki?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Nikki is back with the band. She told me to expect you; she dropped off a box of cherries and blackberries and said they’re for you.” That was exciting, she knows what I want, and she’s eager to provide.

“Oh, she must be intending for me to order a drink she made me. Rye whiskey old fashion with muddled blackberry.”

A few quick nods signaled his approval of my choice. “I like that, I think I’ll make one for myself as well, if you’re happy to share your fruit.”

“No problem, my dude.” I quipped.

“My dude.” He nodded again before he stepped away and started mixing the drinks.

I looked around the room some more. The irony that the place was an old wooden church with a gothic cathedral interior décor was not lost on me. The bartender returned to drop off my drink with a twin in his other hand. We toasted, clinking our glasses together. “I’m Brent, if you need anything else.”

“Thanks Brent,” I said. I took a few sips while the clock ticked away to 9pm. With my phone stored away, I wondered what Ana was seeing. Could she see the stage? Could she see me? Would she be able to pick me out of the crowd if not for my predictable color scheme? The world may never know. I was sure of one thing though. She was definitely not wearing underwear.

The lights started to go down; the stage and bar LEDs were the only illumination in the room. The silhouettes of four women took the stage and prepared their instruments. I could make out the two guitarists, Ashbane and Siren, take their positions while the bassist Thor’n and the drummer Witchfire started. Thor’n started playing a simple beat for four bars, then the drummer joined. As they started another woman, who I recognized as Vaelora, was at the side of the stage checking on a laptop that was facing the band before stepping up to the microphone.

I realized that that must be where the live stream was running and that in order for Ana to see me, I was going to need to get onto the stage. Good thing I’m here on a date with a friend of the band. After another 4 bars the rhythm guitar jumped in with the lead guitar coming after. As the first lyrics started the stage lights came up.

Vaelora’s voice shifted between heavenly notes and hellish screams. She was wearing a black and blue under bust corset and open blouse combo that showed off her cleavage. She had on a pair of leather booty shorts that loosely stitched up the side of the legs showing her hips. Her legs had a layer of black lace stockings stopping mid-thigh with black heeled boots that ended just over her knee. Sleek black hair spilled out from the crown of feathers and bones, blending in with her black veil and creating a void framing her visible lips that were stained a metallic violet and reflected the stage lights as she sang.

The first song told the story of a goddess who sends her favorite worshipper to the coven. He is stumbling through endless darkness, a place where time dissolved and shadows whispered lies trying to shake his faith. It began with a slow, haunting melody as the lyrics painted images of cold ground, unfamiliar stars, and the ache of being utterly alone. The verses spoke of searching for a light, a person, a place that felt like the safety of home. But every warm flicker turned to smoke, every path curved back into the void. The soul is drawn to the Coven’s flame like a moth, fluttering through the void unsure if the light will bring safety or destruction.

As the final chorus swelled, Vaelora stood center stage like a storm given form. Her chest was heaving, the blaze in her eyes dulled but still pierced through her black veil. Her voice, raw with emotion, poured out into the dark room like a confession shouted from the edge of a cliff.

♫ In the hollow light, the seed is sown,
Not for escape, but to be known. ♫

Every word of the chorus trembled with longing. She didn’t just sing the lines, she pleaded them, arms outstretched as if reaching for someone just beyond her grasp. The band dropped lower behind her, letting her voice ring out above the hush when she reached the final lines.

♫ She sends him forth to feed the flame
A gift of flesh, a hunted game. ♫

She let the last note hang, trembling in the air, before slowly lowering the mic and closing her eyes. The lights dimmed to near black, leaving only her silhouette in the fog, frozen in that final, aching moment.

As the lights started to come back up a bit I looked around the room. Still no Nikki. I turned to Brent and motioned him over. He approached and I slid my empty glass to him, requesting another drink. As he leaned his ear over to me, I asked. “What does Nikki do backstage?”

Brent put a hand to his ear.

I asked again, louder.

He shook his head as he turned around to make me another drink.

Vaelora put the microphone to her violet lips. The lights shifted to a low, eerie blue as fog spilled across the stage floor. Stepping forward, hands clasped around the mic, her silhouette barely visible in the haze. She leaned in, voice low and velvet smooth. “Welcome, wanderers, wayward souls, and curious sinners…” she purred, her voice echoing through the dark room. “You’ve strayed too far from the safety of the light, and now you’ve found yourselves in our circle.” A teasing smile curled across her lips as she cast a glance back at her bandmates. “I am Vaelora, and we are Coven of Hags… We have already seduced you with our beauty and warmth, rest assured, you will welcome your ultimate fate. But for now…” A beat of silence, then her grin widened. “Who among you is Marked for Mercy?” She let the last word linger like a hex before the guitars struck their first wailing chord and the show roared back to life.

In the half-light Vaelora’s performance transformed the stage into a realm of forbidden desire. Behind the veil her eyes glowed with predatory intensity as she moved languidly, every step deliberate, every gesture a dark incantation. The pulsing beat matched the rhythm of a panicked heartbeat, drawing the audience deeper into her spell. With a voice that swayed between velvety seduction and raw menace, she recited lyrics of surrender and consumption, enticing and warning in equal measure. Shadows danced around her as the band conjured a hypnotic atmosphere, intensifying the perilous allure of her bewitching performance. The spectacle was breathtakingly irresistible.

Vaelora looked out over the audience. It was hard to imagine she could even see with all those lights shining in her face, but she stopped when she found me and met my gaze with hers. I felt “chosen” by her in that moment, and possibly in danger. A rush of excitement swept through my body and the hair on my neck stood up.

I had one of those moments of recognition where you can’t believe you didn’t notice until now. I looked at the performers. Three of the members had their faces covered, but the way Vaelora’s lips curled at the edges and her confident swagger as she commanded the stage sent a shockwave through my mind as formerly independent thoughts all converged.

“This is fucking awesome.” I spoke aloud but never heard my own voice over the music. As the chorus hit, Vaelora gripped the mic with both hands, leaning forward like she was casting a spell over the room.

♫ Mouth full of malice and lips of devotion,
I pull you in close just to fuel your erosion. ♫

Her voice was molten as she delivered each line with unflinching eye contact, her gaze fixated on me and mine on her. The music roared around me, but she was all I could hear. My eyes focused on the glint of her metallic lips as they formed each word. Whether it was magic or nature I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I didn’t want to look away.

♫ I wear your desires like they’re camouflage,

You can follow your dreams but they’re my mirage. ♫

Her tone dripped with honeyed malice, seductive and damning.

♫ The mouth of mercy doesn’t ask for your feelings

She plots and schemes and devours while kneeling. ♫

As Vaelora stepped back from the mic, the final line etched into the silence like a curse, the rest of the band began to let the song unravel. The guitars softened to a slow, echoing wail while the bass pulsed like a dying heartbeat beneath it all. Witchfire eased into a minimalist rhythm, tapping her hi-hat with the soft edge of the sticks, letting each note ring. No words followed, just a slow descent into silence, like a candle sputtering out.

The stage lights dimmed to a deep red as the music dissolved. The lights went dark.

The third song hit like a spell gone wild. There were no lyrics or warning, just an explosion of sound and movement. The guitars came in fast and sharp, slicing through the air with jagged riffs, while the bass rumbled underneath like something ancient and alive. The drums were relentless, a primal heartbeat turned battle cry. The composition was magnificent, the writer was inspired, the musicians were peerless.

Onstage, Vaelora became something otherworldly. She moved like she was possessed, hips rolling, hair whipping, arms outstretched like wings in flight. Her boots pounded the stage in time with the kick drum as she twirled, dropped low, then rose with a whipcrack of motion. It wasn’t choreography, it was instinct, hunger, ritual.

Midway through the chaos, Siren stepped forward and tore into a solo. It released the tension of the dance. I took a breath for the first time in who knows how long, panicked, but a relief. The notes bent and wailed. sharp and unrelenting, racing up the neck of the guitar like fire climbing dry wood. Fingers blurred across the strings, each lick more intense than the last. The crowd surged with it, drawn into the raw emotion and technical ferocity. Behind her, Nikki swayed like she was channeling the sound, her body moving with every searing note, as if the solo had possessed her.

As the final bridge gave way, the band began to pull back like a beast reluctantly returning to its cage. The lead guitar’s furious riff melted into a steady strumming and the drums slowed to a tribal cadence. Nikki’s movements shifted from wild abandon to something more graceful and ritualistic. Her arms raised slowly, fingers curling like smoke. The lights dimmed to deep red and purple as the bass throbbed one last note. One by one, the instruments dropped away, leaving only the ghost of sound hanging in the thick, electric silence.

The stage lights went out and the house lights came up between sets. I could see Vaelora stepping offstage, winding through a side curtain that led backstage.

            The fog machine had made the room hazy and I lost track of her. I replayed every moment from the performance in my head from her sensual dance to the sultry lyrics of the songs. I scanned the room, heart thumping in my chest. She was stepping out of the stage world and into mine.

A minute later, a hand touched my shoulder. I turned and there was Nikki, still glistening with sweat, her corset laced tight, chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. The veil of her costume was moved aside, and I could see the sparkle in her eyes from the high of performing, but her smile was all for me.

“I knew you’d be here.” Nikki gushed, placing a hand on my thigh while she ran the other up my neck and through my hair. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her close.

“This is one of the coolest things that I have ever been invited to. Thank you.” I had to shout over the noisy crowd. “And Ana is watching.”

“I know, she has been commenting purple hearts and hot emojis on the live stream since we took the stage.” She giggled. “How do you like the show so far?”

“You’re amazing. Your voice is amazing. Your band mates are incredible! You totally fooled me; I didn’t expect to see you on the stage.” I spat it all out so quickly I could barely comprehend my own words.

My incoherent babbling was met with her gorgeous smile. “You’re really sweet.” She stepped back and shifted her hands to her hips. “Do you want to be a part of the show?”

My heart thundered in my chest. A rush of exhilaration surged through my body followed by a moment of doubt. I quickly shook the negativity away. I was a matchstick, trembling with excitement ready to be lit. Unconcerned that for me, a match, this was a point of no return. “Of course I would.”

She put up her hands as if saying to slow down. “Before you accept. Part of the performance is that I’ll be selecting you from the crowd, strapping you to a table, and performing a sex act on you to completion in front of all these people. I guess what I’m saying is that you’d have to be naked for the role, and some guys get nervous and can’t perform.”

“I really don’t anticipate that being a problem.” I nodded to her slowly, thinking for a moment. My mouth and throat were noticeably drier suddenly. I wanted to be undressed for Nikki, but everyone? I hesitated but I remembered what Ana had said. “While she’s touching you, I’ll be touching myself.” This was how I could get onto the stage. I felt a swell of confidence and my saliva glands started producing again.

I sipped my drink as one last way to hesitate before I succumbed to the thoughts of Ana watching me filled my mind, her eyes wide, hand between her thighs. “I’m already not wearing underwear.”

She smiled and kissed my cheek, pressing her lips hard against me as if to leave a mark. I confirmed the suspicion with a glance in the mirror. She stepped back and smiled. “Now they’ll know who to bring up onto the stage. You’ll be the envy of every man in this room.”

The lights started to dim, drawing Nikki’s attention. “I have to head back up for the next song. Make sure you come forward as a volunteer.”

I nodded to her, and she stepped away, disappearing into the crowd almost as fast as she had appeared. I took a moment more to process. I needed to stay relaxed, we didn’t need any equipment malfunctions, unlikely as that might be, to ruin the show. I pictured the live chat full of fire and hearts. It was more than a ritual. Nikki might claim my body, but Ana will seize the moment. My pleasure would be ancillary, like fuel for them both. I was ready to be devoured by each of them, in their own way.

I turned back to my drink and sipped it again. I thought of Ana and how excited she would be to see what was in store. I wished I could tell her in advance, but with my phone locked in a bag she was going to have to be surprised.

Nikki came back onto the stage fully transformed into her alter ego, Vaelora. The band played a low suspenseful tune as she took her place at the microphone, grasping it in her hand and leaning forward over the edge of the stage. “Let’s not get too comfortable.” There was torment in her voice as she growled. “It’s time for…” she went silent after that, allowing a pregnant pause before she bellowed out the end of the sentence. “The Sacrifice!”

She hissed the last syllable, snapping her head and whipping her hair across her face. The band detonated. Drums pounded like war and guitars shredded through the thick air of the venue as the brutal riff began.

Vaelora moved like a demon unbound. She didn’t walk, she prowled, stalking the stage with an inhuman feral grace. Her hand was clenched tightly to the microphone as she stalked along the edge of the stage, eyes sweeping over the crowd with hunger.

Her Gaze met mine and she held it, just long enough to confirm that I noticed. “One of you will lose your soul tonight.,” Vaelora snarled into the mic with unholy glee. She looked away and swept her gaze across the front row like a lion picking the juiciest, most well marbled gazelle from the herd.

The men in the audience surged forward, hands in the air towards her as if proximity alone would decide their fate.

A large man fell to his knees; his arms still extended towards her. “Choose me!” he begged.

She loomed high over him and leaned down. Her veiled face was close enough to him that he must have felt her breath. “Such exquisite desperation,” She purred into the mic. Her tone was dripping with mockery, “Do you think I’d waste my time with someone so pathetically craving my attention?”

The crowd laughed at the man, and she flippantly waved him away. Moving on to someone else.

A younger man was shouting “Take it, please!”

Vaelora approached him, squatting down and smirking wickedly. She sized him up, one of her fingers was beneath his jaw and she was looking him in the eyes with her head slightly tilted. “You’d break before the second verse.” She withdrew her finger from his chin, letting her words be the slap in the face he deserved.

The crowd jeered at the second man as well and cheered for Vaelora as she got back to her feet and stalked around the stage once more.

I could feel it was my time. The roar of the crowd dulled in my mind; my pounding heart replaced the sound of the kickdrum. Bright lights obscured her silhouette and their heat bathed me in warmth. I stepped through the crowd like it wasn’t there. At the edge of the stage, Vaelora came close and loomed over me like a storm about to break. She was backlit in violet and red, casting shadows that made her seem ten feet tall.

The insecurities left my mind and were replaced with a curious confidence. I smirked as I looked up at her, sure of what I needed to do. “You’re more than welcome to try to take it.”

Vaelora grinned mischievously. She pointed a black-lacquered nail at me. “There he is. The Defiant One.” Her voice dripped with reverence and threat. “He bears the mark of the chosen.”

The music surged. Siren began singing, her voice was a contrast to Vaelora’s, the harshness and aggression were gone, replaced with a full-bodied cascade of sound that effortlessly filled the faux-cathedral interior with incomprehensible, but poignant lyrics.

Vaelora lunged forward, curling her fingers into the collar of my shirt like she was claiming her prize. I climbed up with a burst of adrenaline, landing on the stage in a flood of light. The heat of it washed over me. The crowd howled.

She circled me slowly, appraising. Her fingers brushed my shoulder, then drifted down over my biceps, across my chest, every inch of her touch built tension and anticipation. Her lips hovered near my ear.

I thought of Ana and looked over towards the laptop. It was behind some lights, and I couldn’t see the screen, but I had no doubt she could see me smiling at her. I imagined her reaction to seeing me. I could hear her trademark “Ooooh” and I pictured her hands fidgeting with her clothes with both nervous energy and a desire to removed them for me.

“The Defiant One thinks he’s ready for sacrifice,” she whispered into the microphone. “We’ll see.”

The drums shifted to something slower, heavier and more primal. Vaelora placed her hand on my chest and pushed. I went to my knees willingly, staring up at her through the glare of blood-red lights.

From the wings, Ashbane appeared with a long flowy piece of black silk. Vaelora took it without looking. She ran it slowly across my face, then tied it around my eyes. Her knuckles dragged along my cheekbones as she tightened the knot.

The audience lost its mind; cheers of excitement, wails of jealousy filled my consciousness.

“The defiant one comes willingly,” Vaelora announced to the crowd, her voice thick with satisfaction. Then to me, low and private, she asked “Do you surrender your soul?”

I couldn’t help it. I grinned. “Only if you promise to use it irresponsibly. But you’ll have to take it. I’m not just giving it away.”

The crowd roared. I felt the heat of her laugh against my neck.

“You’ve just sealed your fate.”

Her words were like candied poison and I couldn’t get enough.

What I presumed to be a chorus crashed around us like a storm while Vaelora helped me to my feet. Her fingers skimmed back as she whispered ancient words, maybe Latin or some sort of convincing mimicry. Her breath was hot on my jaw as her fingers found the hem of my shirt and lifted it slowly, exposing my chest to the screaming audience.

Her hands roamed my body, possessive and sure of themselves. She kissed my throat, then bit playfully. Meanwhile she unbuckled my belt. Two quick tugs and my pants hit the floor. Someone steadied me while Vaelora removed my shoes and socks, then freed my ancles from my jeans.

Something Heavy slid up behind me. “Don’t squirm,” I heard a woman say quietly. I felt myself lifted off the ground and she laid me gently onto a cold hard surface. Two pairs of hands grasped my wrists and restrained them with straps before moving to my ankles to repeat the process then the blindfold came off. Thor’n and Vaelora stood over me.

Thor’n looked from me to Vaelora and gave her a nod before returning to the song. The kick drum pounded, the bass rumbled, guitars wailed. Siren’s chant continued its eerie caterwaul.

I was laying on a dark wood table, my limbs were held with leather cuffs attached to polished metal chains. I was on my back, if I strained my neck I could see the audience. I looked to my left where I could see… myself projected on the wall. Including the back of my head. I turned to look at the camera where I saw Ana.

The laptop streaming the show was on a stand next to me, the image being projected on the wall was the same as she was seeing. On the screen Ana was sitting on the couch, transposed in a green screen effect behind her, the audience cheered. Her eyes were ravenous and her lip was caught between her teeth. One hand was adjusting one of her nipple clamps, while the other had already disappeared between her thighs.

Vaelora stood over me, “The goddess will observe the sacrifice, for her own pleasure.” She angled my body toward the laptop, glancing back to be sure Ana had the perfect view before sliding her hand down my chest.

Ana reclined, nude, her movements were slow and purposeful. Her hips shifted in time with the music as if she were dancing. Her eyes were locked on the screen, watching me.

Vaelora removed her gloves and uncorked a bottle of oil. She poured a measure into her hand and the smokey, spiced, dark, and dizzying aroma hit me like a spell. She set the bottle down on the table next to me with a resonant thump, as if she was claiming territory. Her hands began working the oil into my thighs with slow, possessive circles creeping higher and higher as she sang.

♪I need a soul to fill this ache,

To burn within, to bend, to break. ♪

She began another, more intimate dance. On “fill this ache” her thumbs dug into the tender muscle high on my inner thigh. A pleasant twinge of pain caused my legs to tremble. On “bend” she traced along the underside of my shaft barely touching the tip, making my hips twitch involuntarily. On “break” she gripped me and tugged, her squeeze getting tighter and tighter as I swelled and filled all the empty space.

With her fingers finally wrapped around me, the slick heat was spreading from the base of my shaft until I was fully coated. Her other hand slid between my legs, cupping and massaging my balls while her knuckles grazed my taint. Each hand moved independently, but with the same ruthless intent.

Ana was on the screen next to me, her silent lips sending me encouragement and love. She was barely blinking, not wanting to miss a single second.

♪ A vanquished will to claim within,

Let me own you, soul and skin. ♪

Vaelora moved her hands deliberately on me and a cascade of sensations overwhelmed me, blurring the edges of my consciousness. On “vanquished will” she traced her nails up my shaft, circling just shy of the head, and on “own you” she closed her hand around my jewels with the possessive certainty of a huntress claiming her kill. Her voice filled my ears, but the poetry reached somewhere deeper, a place that understood instinct before reason. I wanted to surrender, I was ready. I turned toward Ana, the red glow of the livestream casting shifting shadows over her bare skin, the roar of the crowd behind her merging with the pounding of my pulse. They were all watching me.

♪ I crave the lust behind your eyes,

The trembling breath, the shattered cries. ♪

She took me by the chin and directed me to meet her gaze. Warm, fragrant oil smeared on my face and neck as she sung to me.

♪ No sin too sweet, no heart too pure,

Your soul is mine; I am the cure. ♪

I stared at her mouth as she finished the song. Her lips pressed together forming the word “Mine,” and she leaned closer, her veil brushing my cheek, her strokes had slowed to make each one land heavier. On “cure” she gave a deliberate twist that made my eyes go wide and my back arch.

I stared back to Ana. Her silent moans were accompanied by her breasts jiggling, weighted clamps swaying with every gasp. One hand worked between her thighs, fingers circling her clit to the rhythm of the music. Her hips bucked, and her knuckles glistened in the light of the stream. Her other hand clutched at her own breast tugging gently on one of the clamps, a desperate look on her face as she bit her lip and watched Vaelora work me like prey.

I couldn’t hear her words, but I could read her lips. “Take it,” Ana was demanding.

Vaelora’s slow strokes continued while she fixed her gaze to Ana on the laptop. “Watch closely, goddess,” She purred. She angled herself towards the camera, making sure Ana got a good look at her exposed cleavage while she worked my shaft and massaged the tip.

Ana’s mouth opened, releasing her lip from her teeth. Her hands started moving faster. Her chest quaking from choked gasps.

“Soon he’ll be mine as much as yours.” Vaelora cooed to Ana as her thumb teased me in a close up for her. “I will conquer him, ignoring your claim. He will remember me until the end of his days.”

Ana gasped and cried out silently. Her hips spasmed and I watched the orgasm wash over her body while her eyes fixated on us.

I felt a sensation grow inside me as Vaelora worked me closer and closer to the edge until I couldn’t hold back anymore. The room went completely silent as I let out a bellow of raw, helpless pleasure. The acoustics made sure my moment of climax resonated to every available ear. My wrists and ankles pulled on their restraints. The release tore through me, each pulse wrung from my body with merciless precision.

Vaelora was ready, catching every drop of my soul in her palm. She raised her hand and showed it to Ana. “Mine now.” She said. She turned to the crowd and lifted it over her head. “What a big soul he has.”

The crowd exploded with applause.

Vaelora turned back to the laptop, her demeanor had changed from dominance to veneration. “Thank you, Goddess for your blessing.” She licked her forearm dragging her tongue up towards the palm of her hand. Just as she reached her destination the lights went out. There were rustlings around me and the table was whisked away through the darkness into the wings of the stage.

My chest heaved in and out. The roar of the crowd was echoing in my mind like aftershocks. My wrists and ankles ached from the restraints; the scent of the oil overwhelmed my nose. Then the laptop slid into view, Ana’s face grinning as she rolled towards me.

The band started to play again and Nikki rushed over, pushing the laptop up next to me and freeing one of my hands. “You both did great. Gotta go; This is the last song so I’ll check on you soon.” Nikki was almost gone before the words finished leaving her lips.

“That was so hot.” Ana said through the crackling laptop speakers while I freed my other appendages from the straps. It was more difficult than I suspected and I fell back into the table, nerves buzzing and muscles slack.

It was good to hear and I smiled to her. “Thank you.”

She was starting to get dressed in the background of the camera shot.

At the bottom of the laptop stand was a pile of cloth and denim that vaguely resembled my discarded garments tossed hurriedly into a heap. Below them was a clean folded towel for me to clean up with. I meditated for a moment as I wiped away the fragrant oil, the world around me faded away and only the resonating effects of the ritual remained. When I opened my eyes I saw Ana. She was watching me in my underwear fixing my inside out shirt, staring adoringly at me.

“I feel a little jealous,” she admitted. “I wish it had been me strapped to that table.”

I moved close to the camera. “Me too, that was exhilarating.”

“I’m so happy you had an unforgettable night.” She purred. “I’m never going to forget it either.”

The music stopped and the crowd cheered. We heard Vaelora thank the crowd and give a humorous and cryptic farewell. A moment later the curtains opened and she stepped through.

Nikki removed her mask and came to meet the two of us. “I’m going to get changed then I’ll give you a ride home. Ana I’ll chat with you later.

Ana blew Nikki a kiss through the screen.

Nikki reached up and caught it, then brought it to her mouth. The sacrament didn’t stop there; she bent her head down and kissed her cleavage leaving behind an imprint of her lips in metallic purple. “I’ll keep it warm for later.”

“oooooh” Ana cooed.

Nikki stepped through the curtain and returned with a stack of clothing.

Ana and I spoke a moment longer before she started pointing towards me. “Behind you.”

I turned around to see Nikki had removed her costume. She was wearing a sexy black bra and g-string, sliding her leg into a pair of blue jeans. She pulled them over her ass and up to her hips. Then slid on a black tank top.

Nikki winked at Ana. “We’ll talk later tonight.”

“Have fun, both of you.” Ana waved as she disconnected from the call.

Nikki stepped through the curtain and came back with a leather jacket and two helmets. “Let’s ride.”

I followed her out the back door. Parked next to a large trailer with a painting of the band on the side was her black motorcycle. Nikki ran over to it, swinging her leg over and beckoning me. I strode towards the bike and sat down behind her.

We put on our helmets and Nikki pressed the ignition causing the beast to roar to life below us. I felt the motor pull us down the alley and out to the street. Downtown passed us by as we made our way to the nearby on-ramp. The highway was vast with tall concrete walls on either side and a web of overpasses above.

The skyscrapers gave way to neighborhoods and strip malls before Nikki rode back off the highway. It wasn’t long before we were passing by the restaurant where we’d met earlier today. I directed her to my apartment building and we pulled up and parked.

I stepped off and made room for her. Nikki stood next to me, her hair fell messily as we removed our helmets, I had to assume mine did the same.

I reached up and fixed my hair. “I’ve had an amazing night.” I leaned forward and reached out to hug her.

She accepted my embrace, squeezing me tightly. “Your wife is expecting you to invite me in.”

I chuckled. “Let me get to it. I have a system. Step 1: Hug. Step 2: hold hands.” I reached out and took her fingers in mine. “Step 3: Look her in the eyes.” She obeyed meeting my gaze. “Lastly, step 4: Deploy the line.”

“What’s the line?” Nikki asked.

I puffed up, straightened my posture and held a deep breath. “It’s a pickup strategy so effective that scientists have been left baffled by it. It’s the one dating tip nobody should know.”

Nikki cupped my hands with hers and begged me with feigned desperation. “What is it? Say the line to me.”

“Brace yourself.” I warned.

Nikki widened her stance and grabbed a nearby railing. “I’m ready.”

“I Keep a very clean bathroom if you need to come in and pee.” I was confident in my tone.

Nikki bent over with laughter. “How is that supposed to work?”

“Well,” I began, “You come inside, you see how clean my bathroom is, you have to have me right then and there.”

“Thanks for the invitation. But I don’t come inside to use the bathroom on the first date. I wouldn’t want you to lose respect for me.” Nikki’s tone was playful, but serious.

Another arrow in my heart. I grasped it and winced in pain.

“Oh stop. That wife of yours is waiting to hear from me.” Nikki said, putting her helmet back on and straddling the bike.

I waved to her, said goodbye, and turned to leave. “Thanks for a wonderful evening. Truly unforgettable. Good night! Let me know what you think of the book.”

She nodded. “I already read it. I loved it. Ana and I have talked about it quite a bit. She thinks you should write your next book about me.”

“I had the same idea.” I replied waving again. “See you around, I hope.” I walked to my door and went inside. I paused, decompressing for a moment. I pulled out my phone and text Ana. “Love of my life, I made it to my room.”

“Alone?” she replied quickly, she’d been waiting to hear from me.

I typed a quick message back. “She doesn’t come in to use the bathroom on a first date.”

“That’s a bummer. I can’t believe the line didn’t work; it always works.” She wasn’t in the room, but I could hear the mourning behind her words.

There was a knock at the door. I looked through the peep hole to see it was Nikki. “She’s back,” I sent another quick text and sat down the phone. I opened the door and greeted her.

She had a sly smile on her face and she coyly stepped forward lowering her arms to my waist and hooking one finger from each hand through a belt loop. “I’ve reconsidered your offer to let me use the bathroom. I don’t care if you respect me, but I love that you do.”

Nikki reached down and grabbed me. Her fingers massaging my bulge reminded me of the ritual. Her skilled digits wormed their way past the zipper and curled around me, their soft caress instantly causing localized swelling.

I put my hand around her waist and pulled her inside. The door shut behind us with a thud while our arms tangled around each other, grasping, squeezing, restraining. It was a battle for dominance between us; our wills and our wiles tested against worthy opponents.

“The safe word might as well be bitch; either way I can guarantee things will come to a stop if you call me that.” Nikki’s tone was full of warning as she relented allowing me to slide her jacket down her shoulders and onto the ground behind her.

“Either way, I don’t plan on saying it.” Almost before I could finish her lips were on mine and her hand found its way onto my scalp. My hand countered, sneaking up the back of her neck and grasping her hair. Our tongues crept together and immediately began to clash. My pants hit the floor, Nikki’s free hand had launched a counter-counteroffensive, deftly unfastening them and yanking them down.

Her foot pressed down on my jeans allowing me to free my feet. “To the bedroom.” She ordered.

As an answer I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it defiantly.

She mimicked my gesture, her black bra falling playfully from her tank top as it came off.

I relented again, taking a few steps towards the bedroom and stopping in the doorway.

She smirked, unbuttoned her pants, and seductively slid them down her legs. She grasped my shoulders for balance as she stepped out then gave me a nod to move on.

I obeyed and headed into the dark room. I turned on the lamp and Nikki was right there beside me.

She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She removed it slowly, finally letting them fall from it with a bounce. Her piercings caught my eye, shiny rings dangling from her erect nipples, basking in their moment of triumph.

I feel like I was sitting before she ordered me to. She fetched a rope and scissors from her backpack and brought them to me. She stepped closer than necessary, her breasts brushing against my face tempting my lips and tongue. “Ana says you tie such pretty knots.”

“It’s not really knots…” I started then stopped myself. I knew right away what I would do, Ana had a chest harness she always loved. I wrapped the rope high across her chest and pulled it until it was snug. Her breasts swelled as the lines framing them constricted her, but Nikki didn’t resist. She leaned into it, twisting and moving to help me work. Every hitch was an excuse to touch her, to claim another piece of her.

When I was done, she admired my work in the mirror. “It’s almost like a flower in the back.” Nikki put a hand on my chest and pushed me down onto the bed. She climbed on top of me, grinding on my leg. I watched as her G-string slid to the side over and over, getting a quick glimpse of a strip of neatly trimmed black hair.

She moved forward. Stradling my head before she turns around. “Stick your tongue out.” She lowered onto my face moving her panties aside. She tasted divine. My tongue started to explore her with the intention of finding what she likes, but she stopped me. “Keep it flat, I know what I’m doing.”

She started to grind again, slow and practiced. I reached up and teased her nipples with my fingers prompting a gasp. A hitch in her voice followed, then she fell forward. Nikki maintained her rhythm as she leaned down and engulfed me with her mouth, no hands. It didn’t take but a few more second before she shot up and let out a perfectly pitched scream.

Her thighs squeezed, her clit throbbed on my tongue. She caught her breath then lowered her mouth onto me again then releasing it with a loud pop. “That was a good one, the next one doesn’t come until you do.”

She climbed on top of me, riding hard. I thrust up from below her and pulled down on the harness. I leaned up, her nipple gracefully colliding with my waiting tongue. I played with the ring, licking and flicking as my mouth closed around it. I gave a gentle suck while my tongue slowly dragged across.

Nikki leaned to the side and grabbed her phone. “I’m going to send a video to your wife.”

I liked that idea. “How do I look?”

She snickered. “Supremely fuckable.” Nikki’s arm lifted up into the air. I could see us on her phone, the red recording light blinking. She grinded harder than ever and I pulled down on the harness again while she continued.

I wanted to pinpoint which part of the video would make Ana cum the first time she watched it but it was impossible. This short clip would probably enter heavy rotation for her soon. Nikki was going to take it from me and I should maximize my pleasure for them both. I shifted my hips below her, adjusting my angle.

“Yes, give it to me. Flood me so your beautiful wife can see me please you.”

That did it. I lost control, my head went back and I let out a howl. My ass clinched.  Muscles contracted, over and over.

“It’s so warm.” Nikki cooed to the camera as she continued to ride me at the same slow and practiced pace from before. “He’s filling me up and it makes me want to burst.” She cried out, her hips spasmed but her camera arm stayed steady. She brought her free hand up to play with her clit as she started to quiver then cried out.

Nikki looked at the camera, her breath was heavy, her chest was heaving. She touched the lipstick imprint on her chest and then to her lips. She spoke slowly and labored “Thank you for sharing him with me, goddess.”

I blew a kiss at the camera.

Nikki mimicked me before tapping the phone and ending the recording. “That was a lot of fun. Ana is going to love this.” She repositioned the phone and took another video of her slowly raising off of me, dripping.

Nikki snapped a few more pictures before dropping her phone.

We rolled over onto the bed, both of us gasping for air.

Nikki ran a finger down my chest. “Thanks.” She rolled over and picked her phone up again.

I could hear her sending messages, lots of them, fast. I turned to face her and she looked over at me. “You sending out a play by play?”

Nikki nodded, fixing her messy hair. “Your wife wants to know every detail.”

I pondered how hot that was.

Nikki finished texting then stood up. “Thank you for a lovely night, my defiant one. I hope we can get together again soon.” She was pulling on her clothes as she spoke.

“You can stay if you want. It’s no big deal.” I offered.

“I don’t want.” She said. “I’ll let myself out, goodnight.”

As she stood to leave my phone erupted with feverish comments from Ana culminating in a photo of my cock sliding into Nikki. The message attached said “I came to this.”

I heard the door shut. Then the bike rev up and drive away. I looked at the picture again, the perfect response for the audience. “I came in that.”

“Oooooh, now I’m going to cum again and fall asleep. Good night!” Ana sent a picture of herself blowing a kiss.

I sent one back then set my phone on the charging stand and turned out the light. Sleep usually comes easy for me, lay down, sleep, Ana reports that it’s hit or miss whether I close my eyes. Tonight though, it came over me in waves. The echoes of the show were everywhere. I could still smell the oil on my body. I could still feel her hands. I could still see Ana watching us in my mind. I pulled up the photo Ana sent me, her blown kiss frozen in time. I placed the phone back on the stand and watched until the screen flicked off. Sleep came after that, washing over me and helping me drift to tomorrow.