Paganini's Tale, Chapter 2

The man across from Larry, the one with the half-loosened tie,
seemed done talking. A surprise, that. "Excuse me," he said to
the man (was his name O'Donnell? O'Daniel? Larry couldn't
remember) "But I think I'd better fill myself up." He raised his
glass.
   Rum and coke, light on the rum; tonight he was driving. Larry
looked through the heads to try to find Alice's, but couldn't see
the blond locks. He was considering just going home, and if she
wasn't involved in a conversation he would suggest it to her.
   Usually at these work parties Alice found someone to talk
with. Seemed to almost have made friends with a few of the women.
   Larry meandered back past O'Dougall with a smile, then into
the living room. Still no blond locks, and there were a few of
those women Alice talked with over in the corner without her. The
front door was open, and since the night was warm and sultry,
several of the partiers were standing, sitting, lounging on the
porch.
   Larry stepped out, still not seeing her. He nodded jovially,
as if on a particular course, and felt pulled past the steps.
   "Leaving, Larry?"
   "No, no, just, uh, just following Nature." He laughed, joined
by a few chuckles.
   The night was dark, the sky clear and sparkled by stars.
Clearly he wasn't going to find Alice out here, but the prospect
of a few moment's quiet didn't seem bad at all. He turned the
corner of the house and strolled toward the back yard. A
three-quarter moon off toward the east smiled down at him. He
could hear the slightly raucous sounds of the party through the
walls, but still--out here it was quiet.
   Quiet enough to discern that what he at first thought were
faint dog-barks were in fact hushed grunts, coming from around
the back.
   Treading lightly, Larry crept toward the corner. Peeking
around, he saw in the faint light, there on the lawn, the
half-naked bodies of a brown-haired man straddled by a brunette.
   "<God, yes,>" came the half-whispered gasp, "<Oh, yes, stick
it in me, put it in deep, ah, yes, there, there...>" His grunts
became the backbeat of her verbal melody. "<Yes, fuck me, I'm
sitting deep on your cock,>" she chanted, "<sitting down on top,
I'm fucking you fucking me, god you're deep, and you're so big,
god it's in there, it's in there deep, stick it in, oh god....">
   Larry could hear the liquid sounds of lust counterpointing the
backbeat, but it was a primal rhythm at its core. The music made
him hard, and his pants made his cock hurt. Blocked from view by
a large bush, Larry guaged the time it would take them to put
their clothes back on, and decided he'd have enough; then he
unzipped his fly and pulled out his semihard cock. The nerve
endings were tingling, itching for stimulation. The sight of the
illumined bodies and the brunette arching her back, jutting tits
up toward the three-quarter moon, made him hot, and he slowly
began pulling at his prick.
   The night air felt cool on his balls where it whisped into his
fly. His whole cock was freed, and he felt good about it, though
guilty for acting like such an adolescent. But he and Alice
didn't screw all that much anymore, and he hardly ever beat off.
And what was more, he justified, he <felt> like it.  His hand
felt good around his cock, and those bodies were so beautiful. He
pulled on his cock, pushed back slowly, getting friction from his
fingers strumming down the rim. Up and back, slowly increasing in
speed. He felt his loins tighten, and he stiffened the muscles in
his legs.
   Fuckjuice oozed out the tip, and he used that as a slippery
lubricant for a moment, shifting the sensations. It felt
delicious, and he was preparing to come with that feeling when he
heard someone clear a throat behind him.
   He twirled, cock in hand, before he realized it. He quickly
tried to shove his cock back into his pants when he heard her
voice whisper "Leave it out."
   He stood motionless, dumbfounded. Then he looked up; pale
skin, dark hair; almost vampirishly beautiful. Slim, slight.
Postured with one hip jutting out.
   She took his cock in her hand; he practically convulsed at the
touch. "You like whacking off, do you?" she breathed, pulling his
prong toward her, till his face was inches from hers. "And I bet
you were just getting ready to come. Poor little boy." She took
his chin in her free hand. He felt helpless, embarassed, and
intensely aroused.
   "See if you can hit the mark," she breathed, and then went
down on her knees. She opened her mouth twelve inches from the
tip of his cock, then took his cock in both hands. For a moment
he thought she was going to take him into her mouth, but then he
realized what she expected. Her hands began a milking motion,
kneading his cock like a long teat. "Come on, spew, you bad boy.
Shoot that jism into my mouth. Spray it through the air." She
opened her mouth again, moving her lips in the most wanton
version of Marilyn Monroe he'd ever seen, as if her lips were
pulling the orgasm toward her without even touching.
   "Come on, lover boy," she began again, "that semen's mine, I
want your come, give it to me, shoot it out," opening her mouth
like a hungry bass taking the bait, but she wasn't getting
satisfaction, even though the pressure was building up in Larry's
crotch like he'd never felt. "Come <on>, you motherfucker,
where's that spume, where's that fucking come, give it to me,
give it to me, come at me, fire at me, come on now, you bastard,
<come!>"
   And he came in great gouts, pummeling her nose and lips and
tongue with pearly spray. The top of his head came off like that
three-quarter moon, and he could feel it bouncing against the
wall and landing in the bushes. She milked him until every spout
had erupted, then licked her lips and stood. She tucked his cock
back into his pants.
   "That cock is mine when I want it. Do you understand?"
   Speechless, he could only nod. She lapped a stray dollop from
her lower lip, then suddenly kissed him deeply. Her tongue was
hot, agile, and tasted of his own come. Just as suddenly, she
broke away, smiled wickedly, then turned and strode back toward
the party.
   Larry stood silently for a moment, then heard the giggles of
the lovers behind him as they gathered their clothes. He quietly,
carefully, walked out into the next yard, so he could eventually
come in the back door, once the lovers were gone. Besides that,
he needed to think. It had all happened so fast he was just now
reacting. Reacting even physically; as he thought about her
ordering his cock to spew he felt his cock lurch, as if rolling
awake.
   He wondered what she meant by "whenever I want it." It sounded
like there might be a second time. If so, he certainly wouldn't
tell her no.