Read Online With or Without You by Alison Tyler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alison Tyler
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passionately, hands overlapping, bodies pressed together, that fully captivated my attention.
God, they were pretty.
The girl was especially luscious, her mouth painted the dangerous dark black-red of a ripe cherry. Her golden skin gleamed with some sparkling silver fairy dust. She had those long blonde dreads that made absolutely no sense with her features, but somehow added powerfully to her allure.
The two men were focused entirely on the pleasure of their female partner. They took turns kissing her mouth, first one, then the other, until all three were wearing the remnants of her dark lipstick. The boys looked so sexy with the red stains on their lips, and the girl looked positively in heaven, her eyelids fluttering as she kissed first one, then the other.
I stared, unmoving, until my cellphone rang. I felt the phone rather than heard it. The smooth vibrations worked through my computer bag against my thigh, and I reached into my bag and lifted out the small device. It was Byron. Big fucking surprise. Undoubtedly, he wanted to continue our argument. The one thing that Byron hates most in the world is losing a fight. I slid the phone back into my bag without answering the call, and then looked up at the screen once more.
I watched as she continued kissing one man and then the other, and I shifted my hips against the vinyl of the booth, unable to help myself. The vision was more of a turn-on than I would have known. I always see the unexpected at Nora’s clubs. Sometimes you’ll read in the gossip magazines about starlets who dance on bar tops, or slip off their bras and pin them to the ceiling of a local watering hole. There isn’t much left for people to do to shock the A-listers. But Nora always manages to draw in an interesting crowd: drag kings and drag queens, customers whose clothes are literally painted onto their skin, people who come to the club solely to have sex where others can see them.
That’s apparently what this trio had in mind.
The girl kissed her blond partner in a way that let me see that they both had pierced tongues. The tiny silver barbells gleamed in the light as the lovely minx just barely touched the tip of her tongue to his. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone with metal in their mouth. I could ask Nora. I’m sure she knows. I watched as the girl then backed away from her partners and nodded, giving a silent instruction.
Instantly, the two men started making out with each other. I caught my breath. It was fantastical, watching the way they embraced, as if under the command of the female member of their party. Even though she was small, she was clearly in charge. There was no doubt about that. She could have been dressed in head-to-toe leather, holding a whip in one hand, and she would have looked divine. But she didn’t need faux dom attire. Her power emanated from within her very person – tiny though she was. I recognised that ability from seeing Nora in action.
Watching men kiss wasn’t something brand new to me. Art students are by definition liberal. You can’t view naked bodies on a day-to-day basis without being at least somewhat open minded. Still, this sultry threesome was eye-catching, if only for the sheer beauty of the players. I wondered: Was this something they’d agreed upon before heading to the club, or were they strangers, having come together only moments before on the club dance floor?
Which concept did I find more erotic? The possibility that this was an organic experience – as well as an orgasmic one. Just as Nora, Dean and I had come together unexpectedly, I liked the idea that these players had simply hooked up while dancing, not even knowing one another’s name. But the more I watched, the more certain I felt that this was a fantasy come true for this team of three. That they’d talked it over, planning every move ahead of time, taking the time to discuss their every desire. This concept was sexy, too. Maybe they’d gone out to
God, they were pretty.
The girl was especially luscious, her mouth painted the dangerous dark black-red of a ripe cherry. Her golden skin gleamed with some sparkling silver fairy dust. She had those long blonde dreads that made absolutely no sense with her features, but somehow added powerfully to her allure.
The two men were focused entirely on the pleasure of their female partner. They took turns kissing her mouth, first one, then the other, until all three were wearing the remnants of her dark lipstick. The boys looked so sexy with the red stains on their lips, and the girl looked positively in heaven, her eyelids fluttering as she kissed first one, then the other.
I stared, unmoving, until my cellphone rang. I felt the phone rather than heard it. The smooth vibrations worked through my computer bag against my thigh, and I reached into my bag and lifted out the small device. It was Byron. Big fucking surprise. Undoubtedly, he wanted to continue our argument. The one thing that Byron hates most in the world is losing a fight. I slid the phone back into my bag without answering the call, and then looked up at the screen once more.
I watched as she continued kissing one man and then the other, and I shifted my hips against the vinyl of the booth, unable to help myself. The vision was more of a turn-on than I would have known. I always see the unexpected at Nora’s clubs. Sometimes you’ll read in the gossip magazines about starlets who dance on bar tops, or slip off their bras and pin them to the ceiling of a local watering hole. There isn’t much left for people to do to shock the A-listers. But Nora always manages to draw in an interesting crowd: drag kings and drag queens, customers whose clothes are literally painted onto their skin, people who come to the club solely to have sex where others can see them.
That’s apparently what this trio had in mind.
The girl kissed her blond partner in a way that let me see that they both had pierced tongues. The tiny silver barbells gleamed in the light as the lovely minx just barely touched the tip of her tongue to his. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone with metal in their mouth. I could ask Nora. I’m sure she knows. I watched as the girl then backed away from her partners and nodded, giving a silent instruction.
Instantly, the two men started making out with each other. I caught my breath. It was fantastical, watching the way they embraced, as if under the command of the female member of their party. Even though she was small, she was clearly in charge. There was no doubt about that. She could have been dressed in head-to-toe leather, holding a whip in one hand, and she would have looked divine. But she didn’t need faux dom attire. Her power emanated from within her very person – tiny though she was. I recognised that ability from seeing Nora in action.
Watching men kiss wasn’t something brand new to me. Art students are by definition liberal. You can’t view naked bodies on a day-to-day basis without being at least somewhat open minded. Still, this sultry threesome was eye-catching, if only for the sheer beauty of the players. I wondered: Was this something they’d agreed upon before heading to the club, or were they strangers, having come together only moments before on the club dance floor?
Which concept did I find more erotic? The possibility that this was an organic experience – as well as an orgasmic one. Just as Nora, Dean and I had come together unexpectedly, I liked the idea that these players had simply hooked up while dancing, not even knowing one another’s name. But the more I watched, the more certain I felt that this was a fantasy come true for this team of three. That they’d talked it over, planning every move ahead of time, taking the time to discuss their every desire. This concept was sexy, too. Maybe they’d gone out to
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