Strange things indeed went down in the dark. Whether you're in the company of a fellow degenerate, or left to your own devices, we all dabble in that darkness. Once again, Kam found himself alone in his own version of solitary confinement. This time, the confines were the rectangle surroundings of a reach-in closet. Physically, he was comfortable. He sat flat on his backside, knees propped and spread beneath resting elbows and forearms. The cramped space was completely dark inside, but provided a cozy, candid view of the dim bedroom through the wooden shutters. An up close and personal gaze at the impromptu show.
This exclusive peep show was the brainchild of a daring Donna. She was merely half joking when she suggested the idea. The temperature of their initial date had heated up considerably. Donna had moved over to the far edge of that center sofa cushion, leg crossed and leaning even closer to her company. The convo flowed smoothly, in daring directions sure to shape future rendezvous. Still, Kam was noticeably edgy. So when Donna sprung it on him, the prospect of a sample taste, she didn't know what to expect.
The whole thing read like a scene from a cheesy movie — from either a black comedy or poorly scripted porn flick. While straddling the fence of indecisiveness, a vivid and explicit preview would grant Kam the enlightenment needed to accept his truth. Once he could witness Donna in all her transcendent glory, see her in action, he'd know if this was his chosen path.
“Don't worry about that,” Donna said, “I got all that covered.”
Kam didn't know if Donna was serious, or if it was even a good idea. But for reasons unbeknownst to himself, he decided to play peeping Tom. Awkwardness repeatedly washed over him as he sat there trapped in the closet, quietly watching as if he wasn't.
Seemingly, he too, was in on the act. Donna's guest, a bear of a man, wore a black leather mask that covered his entire head, complete with vinyl seams and studs dotted across the upper molding. The design was reminiscent of the style of headgear sported by thirteenth century executioners. If he was uneasy about an audience, he didn't show it. He'd stripped nude and pinned her down on the bed no sooner than they both came into view.
Fate. Destiny. Karma. Metaphysical mumbo jumbo. There was some sort of connection. A telepathic bridge. Before the likely unsightly image of flabby man ass spoiled any semblance of mood. Almost as if she knew what Kam needed to see. Like she knew exactly what buttons to press and not to press in order to keep his fragile male ego in check, Donna seized control of the situation.
“Mmmm, you are rocking the hell out this mask,” Donna complimented while rolling over into a mounted position.
“You like it?” the man asked.
“Ohh, I love it. I'ma need me one.”
The sound of lip sucking and smacking crackled over unified giggling as Donna led the way. She willingly collapsed into the man's embrace, arching her back and raising her chest while pressing their genitals together. He gripped her buttocks in both massive hands, guiding her voluptuous frame into a dry humping motion. Her body felt incredible, a mesh of silk and flesh sliding into his own and between his grasp. He went to wedgie the silk bedtime-friendly boy shorts when the prize slipped right out of his clutches.
“You want this ass?” Donna teased, sinking back into downward dog and moving the coveted apple out of his reach.
“You know I do,” he answered heatedly, throat suddenly lumpy as Donna's head hovered down his abdomen and below. She paused just beneath his testicles, staring in wonder while a thick, meaty erection rose right before her eyes.
Kam watched in his own private awe. Admiring, but observing as well. Although the vision of parting cheeks clearing the flimsy material was a treat, he was impeded by images of 'something else' coming into view. From the moment they sat down, Kam expected a bulge. A prominent outline. Some presence of that defining piece of anatomy that sprung a grand surprise on him the night at the club. But from his vantage point, he saw nothing of the sort. Just a round, delicious bum lightly swaying back and forth.
“Show me how much you want it,” Donna solicited, breathing over the man's cock at the distance of chanting into a microphone. Close enough to lap the tip in one lick.
“That sound like a challenge to me.”
Donna climbed up so she could straddle him face to face. “You know this. Now worship this ass.”
“You ain't said nothing but a word.”
Needing no further encouragement, the masked man took charge. He sat up on his knees as Donna sank back into a doggystyle variant. This was his opportunity to situate that lingerie where it fit best —forcefully stuffed in her hungry bum. He pulled harder, yanking until he met resistance that said he could pull no more. But there was still plenty of leverage to be had. With the back of the garment bunched into a fist, he used his other hand to smack the exposed cheek meat. POW. Paddling each side with a steady, stern defiance.
“Oooh, daddy,” Donna sucked in raggedly, sexually growling from within. Relishing the snugness against her delicacies. The soft fabric eating ruggedly into her crack and sack. Donna's ability to switch hit with seamless efficiency held up in many facets. While almost always up for a game of submissive slut, tonight's menu called for a dash of diva dominance. So behind a wicked laugh she demanded, “Worship this ass!”
OOOkay then! How does this one end? The answers lie in the cheeky pages of The Fetish Dictionary: Kinks G thru W.
Buy The Fetish Dictionary: Kinks G thru W