Unlawful Engagement

She wasn’t one to take an interest in others’ words, as she’d read the latest gossip written about her and her adventurous lifestyle.  She was Elisa Brooks, a well-known socialite who frequented only the best parties and lived for rubbing the pocketbooks of handsome, wealthy men.  A witty and strikingly beautiful minx, she kept men tangled around her fingertips, at her disposal for the smallest inkling of inadequacy. There was something to be said for the way she would discard men like fleeting thoughts, bathed in sexual frustration and dominance.

 She may have been a whore, but she was a good one.

 She relished the rush that came with having complete control over a man. Of knowing that her beauty gave her a certain privilege.  They were such easy creatures to seduce, after all, and she loved the way they would tout her around town like eye candy, as she delightfully scanned for her next victim.

Undeniably, her biggest weakness was a man in uniform.  It was the ultimate power trip.  She would imagine his sculpted, well-toned body pushing her against the wall, handcuffing her wrists behind her.  He would yank her hair back as he raucously breathed words of desire into her ear, telling her all the things he planned to do to her.  She would moan softly as he would forcefully pull down her skirt and jam his fingers deep inside of her…..

Just the thought alone sent her spiraling into a lustful frenzy, as she reached for the vibrator in her bedside drawer. Delicately letting the silk cami slip from her shoulders, she traced lines between her breasts with her long, crimson red fingernails. She loved to watch herself during these wicked moments, catching a glimpse in the mirrored doors that flanked her silk-covered daybed. She admired her darkened skin…the way the soft ridges of her clavicles discreetly protruded….the intimately inviting curvature of her stomach…as she explored every crevice and line that defined her ample features.

Pulling at her nipples until they were stiff to the touch, she let one hand slide down between her thighs. Hmmm. It was so moist already and she had just begun.  With each stroke, she was awarded with the sounds of arousal, and it wasn’t long before her panties were soaking wet. Grabbing and pulling them to the side, she slowly slid the vibrator between her thick, shaven pussy lips. She loved the smoothness of her womanhood…the subtle hum of her favorite toy…and the heat that was emanating from her body at that very moment. She spread her legs wider and slid the vibrator up and down over her clitoris, tauntingly at first, then quickly erupting into an seemingly insatiable fury. She began to rock back and forth, supporting herself against the arched post of the bed, when her cell phone rang.

Fuck.

Who would be calling her at this hour?  She tried to ignore it, continuing her pursuit of unabashed sexual pleasure, but to no avail.  It rang two more times, until she reluctantly pressed the answer button.

“Elisa, are you there?” 

It was her best girlfriend Victoria. Vic, for short. They had met when Elisa first moved out to LA and had been practically inseparable since. She listened to her friend’s shaky voice, barely audible through the phone speaker.

“I really need to talk to you”

“What’s wrong?” Elisa asked urgently.

“Please meet me at Caffe Primo on Sunset, and hurry.  I’ll be driving the Cadi”

Click.

Still holding the vibrator between her open thighs, Elisa sighed.  She knew she had to go, and quickly. Her friend had gotten mixed up with one of the prominent club owners around town, engaging in a torrid sexual affair. She loved the attention, the money, and the jewelry that was bestowed upon her, and he loved having her to fuck at his convenience.  He also loved to exploit her naivety and beauty around his clubs and frequent VIP parties. Elisa knew he was no good for her, but also knew that diamonds were a girls’ true best friend.

She moved off the bed, and grabbed a towel to clean up.  Tossing the vibrator back into her nightstand, she grabbed her silken panties and skirt, dressing rapidly. She could still smell the distinct odor of arousal on her fingertips, as she touched up her makeup and ran her fingers through her long, wavy hair. Sneaking one last peek into the mirror, she snatched her purse from the counter and ran out the door.

She fumbled for the keys to her 2010 Bentley Mulsanne. It was a parting gift from her last boyfriend, a financially astute stockbroker with a passion for curvy, wild-hearted brunettes. They enjoyed a long and sexually tumultuous relationship, even throwing infamous all-night swinger parties. She still often accompanied him on business trips, and anytime he desired a quick sexual fix.

Oh how she loved that car……

She loved to slide her bare skin against the soft leather interior, and just go, often driving too fast and too hard for such uncommon luxury. She finally found the keys and forced them into the ignition. She heard the roar of its’ powerful engine as she sped off towards Primo, capturing the attention of all who encountered her on the heavily frequented highway.

10 minutes on the dot, she arrived to find her friend sitting at one of the back tables, almost in tears.

“Vic, what’s going on?  You sounded frantic on the phone, and now you’re sitting here shaking like you just witnessed a murder. What the hell?”

“It’s Brandt”, she replied.

I instinctively already knew what she was going to say.

“We were having a stupid argument over some singer he just signed at the club. She had been blatantly flirting with him all night, right in front of me. Even made sexual remarks insinuating what she’d do if he gave her top billing. I managed to keep my cool until we got back to the house, but then everything just fell apart.

“He admitted that he had been fucking her for several months now. That I just wasn’t holding up my end of the “deal” of sexually satisfying him. That he never really loved me..….”

She paused, her voice trailing.

“Victoria, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Though I never cared for him, I knew he was something special to you. And I hate to see you hurting like this.”

I let her cry on my shoulder, as her chest heaved in the back booth of that quiet café.

Men….

Sigh.

But I wasn’t going to let her suffer any longer for that asshole.  She was so much better than he ever deserved. Grabbing her hand, I smiled, wiped her eyes, and told her to come with me.  We made a quick stop in the bathroom before heading out the door and into the still warmed seats of my Mulsanne.

“Where are we going?!’ she exclaimed.

I simply smiled at her and turned the radio up, urging her to enjoy her newfound freedom.

After about 45 minutes of crawling the outskirts of town, we had arrived.  It was a little known lounge that served mouth-watering cuisine and provided refuge from the fake idolatry of Los Angeles.  A place where she could let her hair down, and not feel that she had to be the perfect ‘trophy’ woman all the time.  She was undoubtedly in love with the glamorous life, but every so often, she liked to play with the outcasts.  The ones who were often shunned in the ever-competitive regime of private jets and million dollar mansions.

They reached out to grasp the door handle, and could already hear the rock music blaring.  Upon entering, they were greeted by a tall, dark-haired, muscular bouncer.

‘Damn’, Elisa thought. “I haven’t seen him here before”.  Her heart raced slightly as he smiled at the two of them, and asked them how they were doing. They made small talk, and found out that he was actually an off-duty police officer named Marc. He was related to the clubs’ owner, and was filling in for their regular employee, who was out sick that night. He cracked a couple of jokes, and Elisa could feel her cheeks reddening from the combination of his charm and her desire.

Needless to say, he was still on her mind as they found their way to a table.

Signaling their waitress they were ready, she found herself stealing glimpses of him from across the room.  Every so often, she would feel her glances returned, with equal intensity. Her and Vic indulged in good conversation, laughter, and several more glasses of wine. It wasn’t long before they were out on the dance floor, suggestively grinding on each other and acting like a couple of depraved college girls.

“Thanks, Elisa. For this. I don’t know what I’d do without you”.

I simply smiled, and watched her chat up all the gorgeous guys that were now flocking around her.  She was beautiful. She knew it as well as they did. Lust of the sweetest kind, she was bursting with raw sexual energy. She asked if I minded her catching a ride with one of them who had been playfully engaging her all night.

“Of course not”, I responded. I was subtly excited for the opportunity, as I had plans of my own.

Plans to be clenching Marc’s cock deeply between my thighs as I fucked him in the slippery backseat of his police car. It was her fantasy, after all.  The handsome, authoritative man, enforcing his role as a vigilant guardian of society…the unspoken longings to be punished for her bad girl behavior…and she knew tonight she had the chance to finally make it a reality.

I gave Vic one final hug before she left with her new boy toy, and sat back down at the table. Ordering another glass of Merlot, I sipped it anxiously, waiting for the perfect moment to execute my plan. Why was this such a challenge for her? Men usually were falling at her feet, and she had never had one play so hard to get before. It was almost as if he thrived on the sexual tension, and it both intrigued her and frustrated the hell out of her at the same time.

I got so lost in my daydreams that I failed to notice Marc’s approach. A throaty, nerve-filled “hi” crossed my lips, as I tried to feign composure.

She admired his chiseled jawline, massive biceps, and of course, the tight-fitting pants of his uniform. The bad boy guised aesthetically as good. …the rebel, with a spirit continually concealed by conformity…the enigma that commanded her sexual desire…

Perhaps that is what attracted her so. 

With a devious smile, he asked if I minded some company. I beckoned for him to sit down, and after a few sips of his whiskey, he asked what kind of trouble I planned to get into tonight.

Little did he know.

We chatted for a good hour or so, but the only thing truly on my mind was his cock. I would steal glances of the bulge growing in his pants and try to imagine its’ thickness....and how much pre-cum was likely already moistening the front of his boxer shorts. I indulged these sensorial thoughts of him filling me and stretching me wide open, fucking me like a man unwittingly deprived of pleasure.

As if reading my mind, his hand dropped beneath the table and found my thigh. Staring into my eyes, his palm inched closer and closer to my pelvic area, until his fingertips were tracing lines through my tightened denim.

“Let’s get out of here”, he whispered.

His hushed invitation only intensified my curiosity. Grabbing his hand, he led me through the maze of nomadic socializers, last callers and lonely women. We made it out to the parking lot, and quickly found his squad car. Pushing me up against it, his hands clutched at my hips and his lips forcibly burned into mine. I was so fucking hot that I wanted him to rip the clothes from my flesh and use me. Fulfill me. His tongue now furiously inside my mouth, he reached into his front pocket for the car key and inserted it. Easing me into the backseat, he reached over to turn the volume down on his police radio.

No interruptions.

Just the sweat emanating from our skin and a look that said everything.

He leaned me back and kissed me again, this time his hands finding the button of my jeans. In one swift move, he had them undone and lying around my feet. Moving them to the other floorboard, he slid between my open thighs, and stuck his hand into my moistened panties. I sighed softly, as he slowly worked in one finger, then another, until his entire hand was inside of me.

“I want to taste you”, he implored.

“Hmmmm”, my only response, as the sensations continued to taunt me. He slowly pulled my panties to my ankles, staring into my eyes as he removed them completely. His tongue brushed against my pubic mound and I could feel the warmness of his shallow breaths against my skin. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and flicked his tongue against my now aching clitoris. Gently, at first, then with increasing pressure and speed. Every so often, he would let his tongue slip deep into my throbbing hole. It wasn’t long before I was bucking against his face, and begging him to fuck me.

But he wasn’t going to let me have it that easy.

Undoing his pants and pushing them past his knees, he guided my head to his thick, beautiful cock. Tangling my curls around his fist, he fervently pushed it into my mouth. He showed no mercy, and I had to restrain from gagging at the sheer length of him. Each time he would shove it in, I would moan, saliva adorning the sides of my lips. It wasn’t long before he was balls deep inside my mouth and my head was bobbing up and down upon his pelvic region. I could taste the first, sweet drops of his cum, as his thrusts matched each yank of hair, and his cock begged to erupt.

He quickly slid out of my mouth, and pushed me into a doggie style position, forcing my face onto the cool, pebbled leather. I gripped the door handle for support, waiting to him to penetrate me. He took me by surprise, as he licked his finger and began circling the rim of my asshole. Stretching and lubricating it, I could feel myself opening up to accommodate him. He would momentarily rest the tip of his cock between my ass cheeks, before tauntingly sliding it up and down my crack. He continued to tease me like this for several minutes, before penetrating me. I gasped softly the first time he entered, his left palm pressed deep into my ass cheek and his right fingertips forcibly into my neck.

There was just something so dirty about anal sex. Something she had always loved. The complete submission of self…of being entirely under someone elses’ control….she hungered for it.

Arching my back, he burrowed his cock deeper and deeper inside. Each time he slammed into me, I could feel his balls slapping against my upper thighs, which only made it even hotter. Within minutes, we were panting, dripping with sweat, and fucking with all the urgency of infatuation. She let him fuck her with no emotion, no care of whether he’ll even remember her name or not. It didn’t matter, after all. They were but pawns in a game they both obviously reveled in, and often, mastered.

She bucked back and forth in rhythm with his heightened thrusts, until she felt him stiffen, and then release. She imagined him filling her with his hot cum, and pushed two fingers into her throbbing pussy to intensify the orgasm. She felt her muscles contract and every part of her body go limp, her senses raped by the intoxication. They rode out the last few waves together, relishing the animalistic desire between them, until they both collapsed upon the seat; a mixture of sweat and lustful fulfillment.

Was it everything she had hoped for? Did she have another one to file under her resume of blatant, sexual exploitation?

Definitely.

She kissed him once more, as she began to dress, forgoing the expected remnants of conversation. Quickly exiting the car, she wished him well, and told him that they might just run into each other another time.

Another time when she’s looking for a fix.

Another time when she wants to be dominated.

Another time she got what she wanted, as she drove off in her Bentley….the smell of sex still damp and inebriating upon her skin.

Take a glimpse into the soul of an erotic original; a woman who revels in carnal chaos. Sometimes it's beautiful, other times quite the opposite. But it's always real. Enjoy Amy Pelletier's Musings Of A Crazy Girl.