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By *ikeEx OP Man 15 weeks ago
Near Alfreton, Derbyshire |
The cabin lights dimmed as the plane began its descent, a gentle pressure building in Candy's ears. She shifted in her seat, the familiar ache in her lower back protesting after hours of cramped immobility. Mike's hand found hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles in a slow, steady rhythm that didn't ask questions, just offered presence.
"Almost there," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. He'd noticed the subtle tightening around her eyes, the way she'd been carefully repositioning every few minutes for the last hour. Without another word, he reached into the seat pocket in front of him and pulled out a small, flat bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing it to her. "Hydrate. We'll get you stretched out soon."
Candy took a grateful sip, the cool liquid a small mercy. "Thanks." She leaned her head against his shoulder, the worn cotton of his t-shirt a familiar comfort against her cheek. "What's the plan for tonight? Besides the obvious."
Mike's lips curved against her hair. "Well, after we check in and you've had a proper shower and stretched out on a bed that doesn't double as a flotation device... I was thinking we could crack open that bottle of duty-free wine. See where the evening takes us." His fingers traced a slow path up her arm, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. "Maybe explore that new toy we picked up last week."
A slow smile spread across Candy's face, the prospect of privacy and comfort doing more to ease her tension than the water had. "The one with the remote?"
"The very one." Mike's voice dropped, taking on that husky quality that always made her stomach clench. "I have a few ideas about where we might test its range."
The plane's wheels touched down with a jolt, followed by the roar of reverse thrust. Candy winced, the sudden movement sending a sharp twinge through her hip. Mike's arm tightened around her instantly, a solid, grounding weight. "Easy," he said, his breath warm against her ear. "We're on the ground. Just a few more minutes."
As the plane taxied to the gate, Candy pulled out her phone, her thumb swiping through notifications. One in particular caught her eye, an event listing from a club they'd frequented on past visits. She tilted the screen towards Mike, her eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.
He scanned the text, his expression unreadable for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. "White Drinking 5," he read softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well now. That's... ambitious."
Candy's own smile was wicked. "Two hours. Several fluffers. Repeat and heavy cummers very welcome." She scrolled further down, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And a saved cum finale. With frozen amounts."
Mike let out a low whistle, shaking his head in admiration. "She's not messing around. Waist-down filming only, though. Discreet." He looked from the phone to Candy, his gaze darkening with interest. "What do you think?"
Candy's tongue darted out to wet her lips, a familiar heat building low in her belly. "I think," she said slowly, "that our evening might be getting a little more interesting than wine and a new toy." She locked her phone, slipping it back into her purse as the seatbelt sign pinged off. "But first," she added, pushing herself up carefully, "that shower. And that bed. And you."
Mike stood, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartment with an easy strength that never failed to impress her. "Deal," he said, his hand finding the small of her back, a firm, steady pressure that eased some of the ache. "Let's go get you comfortable. Then we can go get... messy."
The hotel lobby was a blur of polished marble and hushed efficiency, but Candy's focus was singular: the promise of a soft bed and a hot shower. Mike handled the check-in with his usual quiet competence, his movements economical and sure. By the time they reached their room, Candy was leaning more heavily against him, the day's travel catching up with her.
The door clicked shut behind them, and Candy let out a long, slow breath, the tension of the journey finally beginning to uncoil. Mike dropped their bags by the door and turned to her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "Shower," he said, not as a question but as a statement of fact. "I'll join you. Help you stretch."
Candy nodded, a grateful smile touching her lips. "You always know just what I need."
In the bathroom, steam began to fill the air as Mike adjusted the water temperature. Candy slowly peeled off her travel clothes, each movement a careful negotiation with her protesting muscles. Mike watched her, his gaze dark and intent, but he didn't rush her. He simply waited, ready to step in when she needed him.
When she was finally naked, he guided her into the shower, the hot water a blissful assault on her aching joints. He positioned her under the spray, his hands moving to her shoulders, his thumbs working into the tight knots of muscle there. "Lean into me," he murmured, and she did, letting him take her weight as he began to work the tension from her body.
His hands were magic, firm and knowing, finding every sore spot and easing it with a steady pressure. Candy closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips as he worked his way down her back, his fingers tracing the lines of her bat tattoo, a familiar, comforting touch. "Better?" he asked, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
"Much," she breathed, turning in his arms to face him. The water cascaded over them, plastering his hair to his forehead, highlighting the strong lines of his face. She reached up, her fingers tracing the stubble on his jaw. "Now," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "about that saved cum finale."
Mike's grin was slow and wicked. "I thought you'd never ask." He lowered his head, his lips finding hers in a deep, hungry kiss that tasted of steam and promise. His hands roamed her body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and hollow, his touch both possessive and reverent.
Candy responded in kind, her own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest and back, her fingers tangling in his hair. The heat between them built, a slow, steady burn that eclipsed the lingering ache in her joints. She could feel him hard against her, a testament to his desire, and she rocked her hips against him, a silent invitation.
Mike broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. "Bed," he growled, and Candy nodded, her own need rising to meet his.
They toweled off quickly, their movements economical and sure, and then Mike was lifting her, carrying her to the bed as if she weighed nothing. He laid her down gently, his body covering hers, his weight a welcome pressure. "I want to watch you," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I want to watch you come for me."
Candy's breath hitched, her body arching up to meet his. "Then watch," she challenged, her eyes dark with need.
Mike didn't need further encouragement. He kissed his way down her body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He lingered at her breasts, teasing her nipples into tight, aching points before moving lower, his breath warm against her stomach. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, looking up at her, his eyes dark with intent.
"Mike," she breathed, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Please."
He answered her plea with a slow, deliberate lick, his tongue parting her folds and finding her clit. Candy cried out, her hips bucking up to meet him. Mike held her down, his hands firm on her thighs, and began to feast, his tongue and lips working her with a skill that never failed to undo her.
He built her slowly, expertly, taking her to the edge and then pulling back, over and over, until she was a writhing, begging mess beneath him. "Please, Mike, please," she sobbed, her body trembling with need.
Only then did he give her what she wanted, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, hard and fast. Candy shattered, a scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of pleasure so intense it was almost pain.
Mike rode her through it, his tongue never ceasing its relentless assault until she was spent, her body limp and trembling. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips gentle against her sweat-slicked skin. "Good?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
Candy could only nod, her body still humming with the aftershocks. "So good," she managed, her voice hoarse. "Now you."
Mike's grin was slow and wicked. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet," he said, reaching for the nightstand and the new toy they'd bought. "Remember this?"
Candy's eyes widened as he held up the sleek, silver vibrator, its remote control in his other hand. "I think so," she said, her voice a little breathless.
"Good," Mike said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Because I have a feeling this is going to make our evening a lot more interesting."
He settled back against the headboard, pulling her into his arms so her back was against his chest. He spread her legs with his, opening her to him, and then he was pressing the toy against her clit, turning it on to a low, steady hum.
Candy gasped, her body arching against him. "Mike," she breathed, her hands coming up to grip his arms.
"Shh," he murmured, his lips against her ear. "Just feel it."
He increased the speed, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through her. Candy's head fell back against his shoulder, her breathing growing ragged as he worked her, the toy a relentless, delicious torment. He brought her to the edge again and again, his control absolute, his body a hard, warm presence behind her.
"Tell me what you want," he growled, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
"You," she gasped, her body trembling. "I want you inside me."
Mike's grin was triumphant. "As you wish," he said, and then he was shifting, positioning himself behind her, the toy still buzzing against her clit. He entered her in one smooth, deep stroke, and Candy cried out, her body stretching to accommodate him.
He began to move, his strokes slow and deep, the toy still working its magic. The dual stimulation was almost too much, a sensory overload that had her seeing stars. "Mike," she sobbed, her hands fisting in the sheets. "I can't... I'm going to..."
"Let go," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Come for me, Candy. Now."
And she did, her body convulsing around him as her orgasm ripped through her, more intense than the last. Mike followed her over the edge with a hoarse cry, his own release pulsing into her, hot and deep.
For a long moment, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing ragged. Then Mike shifted, pulling out of her gently and turning her in his arms to face him. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch infinitely tender.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice soft.
Candy nodded, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. "More than okay," she said, her voice a little hoarse. "Much, much more than okay."
Mike's lips curved into a smile. "Good," he said, and then he was kissing her, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of satisfaction and promise. "Because," he added, when they finally broke apart, "the night is still young. And we have that event to consider."
Candy's eyes lit up with renewed interest. "White Drinking 5," she said, her voice a little breathless. "You really think we should go?"
Mike's grin was slow and wicked. "I think," he said, "that it would be a shame to miss out on all that... milk. Especially the saved cum finale."
Candy's laugh was a low, husky sound. "You're terrible," she said, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief.
"And you love it," he countered, his hand tracing a slow path down her spine. "So, what do you say? Should we go see what all the fuss is about?"
Candy considered it for a moment, her head tilted to one side. "Alright," she said finally, her decision made. "But first," she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I think we need to build up our reserves. For the finale."
Mike's laugh was a low, rumbling sound. "I like the way you think," he said, and then he was kissing her again, his hands roaming her body, reawakening the fire that had only just begun to bank. "I like the way you think very, very much."
The bottle of duty-free wine sat forgotten on the nightstand, its contents und*unk, as they lost themselves in each other once more, the promise of the evening ahead a tantalizing, delicious secret between them.
***
The Red Toy Club was tucked away on a side street, its entrance unmarked save for a small, discreet sign. Mike paid the cover charge, their tickets already purchased online, and they stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of anticipation and something else, something primal and electric.
The main room was dimly lit, the walls painted a deep, velvety red. A stage was set up at the far end, a single spotlight illuminating a low, padded bench. A small crowd had already gathered, a mix of men and women, their faces a mixture of curiosity and raw, unapologetic desire.
Candy's gaze swept over the room, her eyes sharp and perceptive. She noticed the cameras set up on tripods, their lenses aimed at the stage, their angles carefully chosen to capture only the action from the waist down. She noticed the "fluffers," a small group of men and women already at work, their hands and mouths busy, their movements practiced and efficient.
And then she saw her, the woman from the advert, a vision in a sheer, white babydoll dress that did little to hide the curves beneath. She was laughing, her head thrown back, her confidence a palpable force that drew the eye. She caught Candy's gaze and winked, a slow, deliberate gesture that was both an invitation and a challenge.
Mike's hand found the small of Candy's back, a firm, steady pressure that grounded her. "What do you think?" he murmured, his lips against her ear.
"I think," Candy said, her voice a little breathless, "that this is going to be an experience."
Mike's grin was slow and wicked. "I think you're right," he said, and then he was leading her through the crowd, his movements sure and confident, his presence a solid, reassuring force at her side.
They found a spot near the front, a clear view of the stage. The woman from the advert, whose name, they learned, was Luna, took the stage, her smile bright and infectious. "Welcome, everyone, to White Drinking 5!" she called out, her voice carrying over the low murmur of the crowd. "I'm so glad you could all make it. Now, let's get this party started!"
The fluffers went to work with renewed vigor, their hands and mouths moving with practiced efficiency. Candy watched, her body responding to the raw, unapologetic sexuality of the scene, a familiar heat building low in her belly. Mike's arm tightened around her, his body a hard, warm presence beside her.
The first man stepped up to the stage, his cock already hard and ready. Luna knelt before him, her mouth open, her eyes closed in anticipation. He came with a hoarse cry, his release pulsing into her mouth, a thick, white stream that she swallowed with a satisfied sigh.
And then another man stepped up, and another, and another. Luna took them all, her mouth and face a canvas for their desire, her enthusiasm never flagging. Candy watched, mesmerized, her own body aching with a need that was both familiar and new.
Mike's hand found her thigh, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path upward. "You like this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. It wasn't a question.
Candy could only nod, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of her panties. "I do," she breathed, her voice a little hoarse. "I really, really do."
Mike's grin was slow and wicked. "Good," he said, and then he was slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, finding her clit with an unerring accuracy that made her gasp. "Because I have a feeling this is going to be a long, messy night."
He worked her slowly, expertly, his fingers a delicious torment as they brought her to the edge and then pulled back, over and over. Candy's head fell back against his shoulder, her body trembling with need, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them.
Luna was now on her back, her legs spread wide, her body a glistening canvas of cum. Men were stepping up, one after another, their releases painting her skin in thick, white ribbons. She was laughing, her head thrown back, her pleasure a palpable force that filled the room.
"Mike," Candy breathed, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. "I need... I need..."
"I know," he murmured, his lips against her ear. "I know what you need."
He increased the pressure, his fingers moving faster, harder, and then Candy was coming, her body convulsing around him, her orgasm a silent, intense wave that left her breathless and trembling.
Mike held her through it, his arms a steady, grounding force. When she finally stilled, he kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of satisfaction and promise. "Better?" he asked, his voice soft.
Candy could only nod, her body still humming with the aftershocks. "Much," she managed, her voice a little hoarse. "Thank you."
Mike's lips curved into a smile. "Anytime," he said, and then he was turning his attention back to the stage, where Luna was now sitting up, her face and chest glistening with cum. "Now," he added, his eyes glinting with mischief, "for the main event."
A hush fell over the crowd as Luna stood, a large, clear bowl in her hands. "And now," she said, her voice a little breathless, "for the saved cum finale!"
Men stepped forward, each holding a container of frozen cum. They emptied them into the bowl, the frozen chunks landing with a soft thud. Luna stirred the contents with a long, silver spoon, the frozen cum slowly melting into a thick, white liquid.
Candy watched, mesmerized, her body responding with a renewed surge of desire. She'd never seen anything like it, so raw, so unapologetically sexual, so utterly decadent. It was a spectacle, a celebration of desire in its most primal form.
Luna lifted the bowl, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. "Who wants to help me with this?" she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd.
Mike's hand tightened on Candy's thigh. "Go on," he murmured, his lips against her ear. "I know you want to."
Candy's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked from Mike to Luna, her mind racing. It was one thing to watch, another entirely to participate. But the thought of it, the sheer, unadulterated hedonism of it, was too tempting to resist.
She nodded, a slow, deliberate movement, and then she was moving, pushing through the crowd, her steps sure and confident. Luna's smile widened as Candy approached, her eyes dark with invitation.
"Well, hello there," Luna said, her voice a low, husky purr. "I was hoping you'd join me."
Candy returned the smile, her own lips curving into a wicked grin. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, and then she was kneeling beside Luna, her body thrumming with anticipation.
Luna handed her the bowl, the weight of it a tangible promise. "Your turn," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Candy lifted the bowl, the scent of it filling her senses, a heady, musky aroma that was both strange and intoxicating. She looked at Luna, a silent question in her eyes, and Luna nodded, her smile encouraging.
Candy tipped the bowl, the thick, white liquid pouring over Luna's face and chest, a slow, deliberate cascade that left her glistening. Luna laughed, her head thrown back, her pleasure a palpable force that filled the room.
And then Candy was leaning in, her tongue darting out to taste the cum on Luna's skin, the flavor salty, slightly bitter, and utterly, uniquely male. Luna gasped, her hands coming up to tangle in Candy's hair, pulling her closer.
Candy lost herself in the sensation, the taste, the texture, the sheer, unadulterated hedonism of it all. She licked and sucked, her movements hungry and sure, her body aching with a need that was both familiar and new.
Luna's head tilted, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her glistening face. Her gaze, heavy with invitation, swept past Candy and landed squarely on the man standing at the edge of the crowd. "Mike," she purred, her voice a low, husky invitation that cut through the ambient noise of the room. "The lady has requested your presence."
Mike didn't hesitate. He moved through the parting crowd with an unhurried, purposeful stride, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the raw energy pulsing through the room. He stopped before the stage, his eyes meeting Candy's, a silent question passing between them. She answered with a small, almost imperceptible nod, her lips curved in a wicked, challenging smile.
He stepped up onto the low platform, the solid thud of his boots barely audible over the low thrum of music and the soft, appreciative murmurs of the onlookers. He stood over them, a solid, imposing figure, his gaze sweeping over Luna, then Candy, taking in the scene with an unreadable expression.
Luna, ever the gracious host, shifted to make space. "Well, don't just stand there," she teased, her voice a low, throaty chuckle. "We're making a mess."
Candy's fingers, slick with the mingled cum, traced a path down Luna's stomach. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against the shell of Luna's ear, her voice a conspiratorial whisper that was for Luna alone. "Have you ever tasted a woman's cum?" she asked, the words a warm puff of air against Luna's skin.
Luna shivered, a full-body tremor that had nothing to do with the cool air. She turned her head, her eyes, dark and fathomless, locking with Candy's. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "Honey," she breathed, her voice a low, husky purr, "I've bathed in it."
The admission hung in the air between them, a spark that ignited a fire in Candy's belly. She pulled back just enough to see Luna's face, to read the raw, unapologetic desire there. "Good," Candy said, her own smile mirroring Luna's. "Because I'm about to make a mess of my own."
She didn't wait for a reply. With a confidence that surprised even herself, Candy shifted, straddling Luna's torso, her knees bracketing the other woman's ribs. She braced one hand on Luna's shoulder, the other sliding down her own body, her fingers disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt.
Mike watched, his gaze intense, his body still. He saw the subtle shift in Candy's posture, the way her breath hitched, the focused concentration on her face. He knew that look, the quiet determination that preceded her own pleasure. He took a step closer, his presence a silent, steady anchor in the swirling chaos of the room.
Candy's head fell back, a soft sigh escaping her lips as her fingers found her clit, already swollen and sensitive from Mike's earlier attention. She circled it slowly, deliberately, her movements sure and practiced. She was putting on a show, not just for Luna, not just for the crowd, but for Mike. Her movements were a language only he fully understood, a silent conversation of desire and trust.
Luna watched, mesmerized, her hands coming to rest on Candy's thighs, her thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there. She could feel the tension coiling in Candy's body, the subtle tremors that heralded her release. "That's it," Luna murmured, her voice a low, encouraging purr. "Let me have it."
Candy's breath hitched, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. She was close, so close, the pressure building low in her belly, a familiar, delicious ache.
The orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a violent, explosive release that tore a cry from her throat. Her body convulsed, her back arching, and then she was gushing, a hot, clear stream that shot from her body with surprising force.
Luna gasped, her eyes widening in shock and delight as the liquid hit her chest and stomach, a warm, wet deluge that was far more than she'd anticipated. It kept coming, pulse after pulse, soaking her skin, pooling in the hollow of her throat, dripping down her sides to soak the padded bench beneath her.
"Holy shit," Luna breathed, her hands coming up to slick through the mess on her stomach, her expression one of pure, unadulterated awe. "You weren't kidding."
Candy collapsed forward, her body trembling with the aftershocks, her forehead resting against Luna's shoulder. She was breathing heavily, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Mike was there in an instant, his hands steady on her shoulders, grounding her. "Easy," he murmured, his lips against her ear. "I've got you."
Candy leaned into him, her body limp and pliant, a deep, bone-deep satisfaction settling over her.
The room was buzzing, a low, electric hum of conversation and appreciation. The audience, a mix of seasoned regulars and curious newcomers, was alive with a new energy. This was different. This was better.
"Did you see that?" a man with a silver ring on his pinky finger whispered to his companion. "That wasn't in the advert. That was... next level."
His companion, a woman with a sharp, angular bob, nodded, her eyes wide. "I've been to all four. This is the best one. By far. The woman with Luna... she's incredible. The chemistry between them, and then the guy... so steady. He just knew what to do."
"Who is she?" someone else asked, their voice a low murmur that was lost in the general din. "I've never seen her before."
"Doesn't matter," another voice replied. "She's a star. Luna found a diamond."
On the stage, oblivious to the chatter, Luna was slowly sitting up, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her glistening face. She looked from Candy, who was now leaning heavily against Mike, to Mike himself, her eyes dark with a new, speculative interest.
"You two," she said, her voice a low, husky purr that was laced with genuine admiration. "You're something else."
Candy managed a weak smile, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. "You're not so bad yourself," she retorted, her voice a little hoarse.
Luna laughed, a low, throaty sound that was full of genuine warmth. "Oh, honey," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm a professional. You... you're a force of nature."
She pushed herself up, her movements fluid and sure, and then she was standing, a vision of debauched glory. She held out a hand to Candy, her expression inviting. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you cleaned up. And then," she added, her gaze shifting to Mike, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face, "we need to talk."
Mike's arm tightened around Candy's waist, a silent, protective gesture. "About what?" he asked, his voice a low, steady rumble.
Luna's smile widened. "About a private party," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Just the three of us. And maybe," she added, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, "a few select friends. I have a feeling you two could make my next event... legendary." |
