The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires (An Anthology) Read online

  As one, the guys turned on Tucker chiding him. No touching Tucker, they said in unison.

  "And she's off," Rick said, as she headed toward the bridge, trying to keep the sway going. That particular stomp stomp Jennifer had, along with the dead eyes.

  As she went through the door she heard Bonifellow. "Tucker, Jesus, you ruined it again."

  The door closed on Tucker's feeble apologies to the others.

  Even through the door she could hear the psychology guy calling come back. She floated down the stairs off to the right of the elevator. Down to the mezzanine floor, down another short set of stairs on the right and towards the lounge.

  Once she was in the open lounge, she stopped. Which way to go? The path of least resistance led her into a cluster of furniture. There were four hallways going off in each direction from the lounge, but she didn't know which one to take. Her eyes darted to the hallway on the right but the darkness was overwhelming.

  She could smell microwave popcorn off to her left. So she opted to go right, thinking that Jennifer on the prowl probably would avoid the friendly female voices echoing from the far end of the hall from whence popcorn smells were emanating.

  Just then something tugged her ponytail. She let out a short scream and practically levitated as she turned around.

  "Nadia!"

  Nadia dropped her camcorder.

  "Why are you awake?" Nadia said, picking up her camcorder. "And if you're awake, why aren't you in your room?"

  "I had to know, I couldn't wait another night."

  "What? You mean you—" Nadia understood her look. "No. Jenny, you're ruining everything for me. I kept watching the monitor thinking what the hell…"

  Two or three women came into the lounge from the hall on the right.

  "You hear someone scream?" they asked. Nadia and Jenny shook their heads.

  "I think they're making popcorn down there," Nadia offered, pointing to the smells of popcorn. The women drifted off in that direction.

  It had to be the dark hallway. Had to be. Her gut told her that's where he was.

  "Look, this is the way I think I went."

  "But you're not asleep."

  "But I have to know. How did you find me? What are you doing here?"

  "I saw you go past the cameras in the lounge. I’ve been running around the whole building trying to find you. What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're ruining our plan. I was hoping to record this."

  "It was your plan, Nadia, not mine. And I'll tell you what happens. Probably. But I don't feel comfortable with you following right behind me."

  "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone! Please go back to bed. Let's do this the right way. Please."

  "You're groveling. I can't tell if you're really worried or you just want the research statistics."

  Nadia looked guilty. "A little of both," she admitted.

  "Look, it might not be anything, right? It could just be empty rooms down that hallway."

  Nadia opened her mouth to argue, but Jenny gave her the Jennifer look.

  "That's creepy, don't do that," Nadia said.

  A door opened down the dark hall. Jenny heard male voices. She gave Nadia the look again.

  "Go."

  "Fine." Nadia flipped shut the camcorder and put it in her big bag. She turned and retreated to the mezzanine and behind the bank of elevators. "I'll stay here."

  Jenny braced herself. She knew Nadia wasn't gone for good, but she opened the glass door to the far right hallway and started her slink-stomp down the corridor.

  The hall was dark. They were doing some maintenance or painting on the floor. There were no florescent lights overhead, and she passed a stack of long light bulbs propped under the red glow of an exit light. About half way down the corridor was a big rectangle of golden light. Two rooms were open, the men in them talking across the hall to each other.

  She could hear one better than the other. Abandoning her Jennifer stride, she crept up closer then stopped

  One had a low rumbling voice. Turner. The other voice alternated between a radio-slick baritone and a protesting pitch that cracked like a teenage boy whose voice was changing.

  "So you've settled for being her man-meat," the silky radio voice said.

  "She doesn't want to play in public it seems."

  "That's cold, bro. I guess I can see why she'd just want to use you for sex though. Probably already has a boyfriend back at home. She dresses all granny-like but her body is slammin'."

  Turner's low rumble was indistinguishable.

  "Probably they have some kind of agreement—like sex with someone else is fine, but nothing emotional. You know?"

  Another rumble.

  "Yeah, but you're hung up on her. You gotta be cold dude. Don't succumb to the mind games."

  She tried to call to mind the baritone. Had to be the pale-faced guy with glasses.

  Turner's voice rang out clear and strong this time. "I didn't say I was hung up on her. I said we're very sexually compatible."

  Where were all the other biology people? Her floor had the econ people everywhere you looked. Maybe the biology people had enough numbers that they were spread out across the other halls. Maybe no one else wanted the dark hallway.

  "Look at you, trying to play it all cool. I see right through you. You're totally obsessing."

  "Because —"

  She couldn't hear and tried to creep closer. Turner was deep in his room. The other guy had his desk near the door; his voice was as clear as a bell and she was afraid he'd see her if she got too close.

  "That isn't a deal breaker for you?" the baritone was asking. "Sounds freaky to me."

  "Takes all kinds, Harrison," Turner said. Harrison was Turner's lunch buddy.

  "Obviously she's not such a good girl. I've seen good girls—they don't pounce on guys like you. And don't think I can't hear what you're doing in there, because I can. It's indecent."

  "Because you're not allowed to join in."

  "Exactly. Why you can't just accept that you're dating a sexual predator? So what if she doesn't want to talk to you during the day? That's not the important part anyway. Who cares?"

  There was another rumble from Turner's room. What was he doing? Changing his clothes? She couldn't make out a word he was saying. "Did she really?" Turner's sidekick laughed. "What did you do?"

  "Let's just say I'm not going to let her tie me up again anytime real soon."

  "But you did let her tie you up."

  There was a pause. "Yeah. Once."

  "Oh man, I am so living vicariously through you right now."

  Jenny felt her face go deep red, and fanned herself rapidly. Jennifer was not a blusher.

  "Hey, I'm going to hit the hay," Harrison said. "If the senorita wants to have a threesome, I'm here for you."

  "Thanks."

  She stomped into the lit carpet. The men were instantly silent.Turner stood with his hands on his hips just taking her in.

  The other guy talked like she couldn't hear him. "Speak of the devil."

  Turner gave her the same look from the lunchroom. It was like a punch to the stomach, because here they were, in a place and time where he could put the actions to what that look promised her. He came up to her and put her hand on the side of his jaw. She smoothed his skin there, feeling the difference in texture between his stubble and his skin.

  "Dude, she's asleep isn't she?" Harrison was behind her, his voice hitching higher.

  She made her eyelids heavy, but she was a thousand points of radiant energy throughout her body when she heard this comment. How could he not notice that she was so awake, so alive?

  "That's the current theory."

  "Dude, that is so wrong." Harrison's voice, on the other hand, was all admiration.

  Because she felt that Jennifer would do such a thing, she stopped stroking Turner's end of the day bristle and gave him a smart little slap. The grin he gave back made her melt and froze her organs simultaneously. He reached for the doo
r.

  "So, if you need anything, h—"

  The door slammed shut and they were alone.

  He locked the door without looking, his eyes still tracked right into hers. They were tired eyes, pinkish-red lids bracketed by deep shadows. He took the hand that had given him the playful slap and nibbled on the sensitive center of her palm. She felt it all the way down to the throbbing ache centered right behind her pubic bone. Her pelvis, her womb, they wanted to have a talk with him. She might not have much to say, but they had plenty they wanted to communicate. She saw that his eyes were lit in a mocking way.

  "Jennifer," he said.

  The realization hit her like a crazy rollercoaster ride. Jennifer didn't talk. She realized she could touch him wherever she wanted. Jennifer was not shy.

  Turner was not shy either. He started taking off her clothes, plucking the silky bottoms from her.

  Moving mighty fast, mister. She would have stiffened normally, but Jennifer wouldn't mind. Jennifer would be a heat-seeking missile. She sucked in her breath as her cami was shucked instantly. She dragged her hand across his naked abs, savoring their heat, and he sucked in his belly, as if her fingertips made him shiver with sensation.

  She plunged her hand into the gap between the light furring of his stomach and his jeans. That quick fraught look in his eyes gave her a feeling of sudden power as she grabbed his silky hard length.

  At that moment she could have him, she realized. She could have the boy across the hall—or both of them together. She could have any man on the campus, in twos or threes, or crawling before her on the ground. It was so odd, but she never realized the power within her before.

  He skinned off her undies and her heart began racing as he shucked his jeans. She wanted to cross her hands in front of her sparse strip of pubic hair, but Jennifer wouldn't cover up.

  Wombats, weasels, martins, minks—why couldn't she remember what he studied? It didn't matter. They reached the point of no words, and to her it was like a sanctuary. Not to talk but to feel. Not to think but to touch. She worked with her brain until her body became a stranger.

  She watched him spring free from the jeans, and she forgot her own name. His entire pubic region was shaved, and his cock was naked, enormous. He pressed up against her, his fingers stroking upward from her outer thigh and then fanning out in a mesmerizing fashion across her hips before sliding down and in between her legs. She tightened, but felt how much more wet she got as his fingers remained there. She wasn't going to remember how to breathe soon, especially if he kept dragging his fingers in from the tender flesh of her inner thighs to plunge back into the wet spot between her legs.

  His mouth took over hers, his tongue exploring while his fingers slid around below. Their naked bodies began sliding against each other in sensuous greeting. He felt that delight too, she saw, his brow furrowed with the sharp pleasure of it. She didn't, couldn't, wouldn't be embarrassed by the searing kiss he was giving her. Or the way his fingers plunged sure and hard into her wet pink shell once more. All slippery, his fingers curving inward, stabbing her g-spot as she opened herself to the tingling slightly numb sensation they left behind. His hand cupped her there, spreading her inner thighs apart more firmly as she gave an involuntary wiggle. Her pelvis was speaking again, the very bones throbbing for him.

  She was surprised when he suddenly turned and tossed her over onto the bed. Catching herself with her hands, she held her position, on hands and knees on the edge of the mattress. She felt her feet pushed apart from behind, then wider still. Now her hands were on the bed, her head low her backside up, legs spread very far apart.

  Her head started to seize up, her neck to tighten. What was happening now? But she could also feel her body responding, welcoming his big hands as they were winding from her shoulders down her sides to her thighs. Her body knew those hands, trusted those hands. The suspense made her squeeze against his hands, pressing them in as he knelt and licked the wet slickness of her secret, intimate place. His tongue plundered those pink folds until she lost her breath and her ability to do anything except blindly push up and back with her entire backside. She found herself thrusting back helplessly, then in repeated semi-circles, moans rippling out from her throat.

  "That's right Jennifer, let me hear you."

  She froze, horrified. Jennifer. Yet her body kept responding, and didn't care. This was the craziest thrilling thing she'd ever done, and god it felt good. Small intense grunts of satisfaction were coming from her mouth.

  "I think about those sounds you make way too much for my own good," he murmured to her. The words warmed her inside, until it felt like a blazing sun was under her skin. She gasped and was suddenly coming, coming, coming, the delicious licks not stopping, stroking her onward and forward.

  Turning her head she noticed them in the room's mirror. He caught her looking and turned them slightly so she could see better. "Know you like that," he said.

  Again her innards fluttered. She did like it, it was amazing, it was all out, and every time she rocked against his mouth with no restraint the flutter happened all over again. He pulled back and played with her with his fingers, his lower face wet, his eyes looking at hers in the mirror. She noticed how serious his face was—his eyes deep under his brows, almost lost in shadow, on the verge of frown.

  It was a stare of concentration, and again she noticed those short, sharp lines under his eyes. He placed his head back between her thighs down low. His tongue was magic, she had to stretch forward on her arms and close her eyes—but she wasn't going to forget those shadows. They weren't there at the beginning of summer—she would have gone on the witness stand and testified to that.

  His wet cheeks lifted away for a second. "Talkative tonight, aren't you?" Before she could grunt in agreement, he was down low once more, pushing her thighs apart with his raspy cheeks. She gave a gasp of breath, as his mouth sucked her. She was dripping, and her gasps came faster, but not from shock, more as a code. Don't stop. Don't. Stop.

  His agile tongue knew her, knew her well, its confident probing and teasing groan lower, louder, until she was down on her elbows, her forehead hidden in the covers as she came, helplessly crying out at her tangled unbearable pleasure.

  The first rippling pulls inside her died away even as he pulled her off the bed, standing behind her as she looked in the mirror.

  Jennifer wouldn't be satisfied by the quick orgasms, nor intimidated when he took one large hand and drew her around until she standing, no, kneeling before him, the broad head of his cock proffered to her lips. Comfortable on his feet, a wet glistening beard across his lower face, his erection pushed past her lips, all silky and rounded. I've got a fat cock in my mouth she thought, and sucked harder, whimpering with the pleasure of it, her cunt clenching hard, feeling all hollow and achy. She wrapped her fist around his cock. She sucked and moved it deeper into the back of her mouth, breathing heavily through her nose.

  He was grasping her ponytail to guide her, oh-so gently. She lapped him back and forth, up and down with her tongue. She knew that was how Jennifer would do it, both to play with him and tease him and also so he could watch her in the mirror. Meanwhile her lips were getting him wet, her mouth and cheeks and chin slippery as she sucked him off. It made her cunt cry out, her pelvis tingling in demand that somebody do something about this situation immediately.

  She began sucking him greedily, until she felt him shaking from the effort of holding back. The power of him shaking was hers. It made her want to feel it even more, so she wrapped her hands around his back and grabbed his ass. The pull of muscles trembling there told her again what an effort it was not to pump off into her mouth at once. She wanted him to, but he had other plans.

  He withdrew and once again tossed her towards the mattress, forcing her feet into that wide police stance. This time she wasn't afraid. She even enjoyed the cool rush of air there where she was wettest and arching out her ass. This time excitement licked up and down her legs while he easily slid two thirds of
the way inside her with his iron-hard, hot cock. She felt him go the rest of the way and she was surprisingly tight, wonderfully so. She found herself down on her elbows, surprised by how he filled her up as he pushed slowly forward. His cock made sucking noises pulling back while she tightened against him and resisted. He plunged forward hard again 'til she was forced to release her grip and ride along with him.

  "You like that," he said. It wasn't a question. Soon he was fucking her hard, holding her hips so there was no way she could move them, nowhere to hide from having to take the maddening delicious, unrelenting motion of him. She was up on her toes for him, feeling him put a special effort into each hard thrust, as if his body was saying take that one and that one, and especially that. Her pleasure was sharp, starting deep and diffused inside her, building up along her thighs, wiggling over her shoulders and down her breasts at the same time. Like a harness of pleasure she could feel it taking form and building a tight web all over her body.

  He knew her slightest gesture, knew how she came. As her head came up and back towards him, she could feel his belly just brushing her ass, and then he abruptly began giving her faster, shorter jabs that made her grunts go higher and louder.

  She was calling out his name urgently with the devastating pleasure he was drilling into her wet, tight pussy. Soon she was undone, pairing his thrusts with the grinding motion of her hips. Her back arched hard, no wonder… Yesterday. She couldn’t stand the joy of the jerking thrusts any longer.

  She realized he was talking under his breath. What was he saying?

  "Have you got a boyfriend? No. Someone else you like better than me? No, somehow I don't think so…" It was almost muttered, but she couldn't reply, not with the deep spring in her body winding up tightly again.

  As he kept going it began to implode. First she was a million exploding bits of a thousand stars exploding into nothing. He moved in closer. Now his knees were on either side of hers, his chin brushing her ponytail. His torso hovered inches above her own.

  She took pleasure in his biceps, how they were round and strong, how they bracketed her shoulders and flexed with his thrusts. She sank her head lower and pushed herself against him until she felt the sweat seal their skin together. The contact set off the fusion of his orgasm within hers.