A Glimpse of the Dark Side: Adult Paranormal Erotic Romance Collection Page 15

  She'd soon be ready to do anything for him, do anything he wanted, and especially let him do anything to her.

  His gaze never faltered, his breath was unbelievably steady as he worked her sex and controlled her fulfillment.

  Her own eyes were alternately wide with wonder or half closed, as the man himself glowed to her, radiated power and sex. His electrical aura or whatever it was, seemed eerily magnetic, too.

  She panted, giving him all control, giving in to her every desire, and her thoughts were going, going...

  Chapter Three

  HER LEGS QUIVERED then trembled as she began to buckle under her own weight, unconscious to the fact that her thrusting and gyrating hips were bucking and swaying to a fingered tune entirely different from what was now blaring across the crowded dance floor.

  She was dancing the dance most of them had come here to do, the oldest one known to man and woman - the Dance of Desire.

  Her sex was already so drenched with the hot, fragrant torrents of her lust that without the skimpy underwear fabric to absorb the juices, they would be coursing down her thighs. It was lubricating his fingers in a steady, pulsing river from deep within her.

  Pulse pounding erratically, she clutched to him, until he... touched...

  "Oh!"

  ... touched on a sensitive point and both her hands flew backward, to prop her against the wall, spread evenly on both sides, leveraging her weight with her entire body against it. Her mouth was open but no gasps come now because she has become speechless. Her body both arched and sagged, to lean heavily to the side, her head following, despite her trying to maintain eye contact.

  "Shhhhii-t! Ahhh-mmm!"

  The Blonde's explosion upon his dancing fingers, as her sex lips below closed around them and suckled, as his lips closed on hers to connect in full what felt like power to electrical circuits between them. The Blonde grabbed his shoulders again as her entire body wracked with violent tremors. He used his own body to pin hers to the hard wall, limiting her movements, the pressure of him making it all so much sweeter.

  She held her breath.

  "Breathe. Breathe and cum, cum for me," he coaxed.

  "Ah-ahh-ahhhh..."

  And she obeyed.

  She gasped and gulped air and he gazed intently into her eyes and saw the incredulous surprise there.

  "Yeah, beautiful, it's better when you breathe."

  She pressed her thighs tight around his digits. She quivered and shuddered upon his masterful fingers, drenching them more, until the provoked, yet involuntary reaction subsided and finally gave up the seized control of her sex and spine and brain, and eased away.

  The beaming smile on her flushed face when she could see him clearly again could not be denied-that was his reward. His Blonde was glowing as he slipped his hands off her, and out of her.

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are a bad girl," he chided as he raised his hand and took a long whiff of her overheated aroma.

  If it hadn't been so dark, he would've seen his Blonde blush a deep red faster than a squid could ink the sea. She smelled a little like the sea. And horny sex. In public.

  He didn't need to see, though. He knew it was there; knew she felt it on her hot face. He knew her. He knew her desires and fantasies, and how to make her cum like no one ever had before even without him unzipping.

  The girl, the Blonde, was still glowing. She was already wanting this forever.

  "I-I'm Lyda. That was fucking amazing! Tell me your name."

  He smiled. "Ralph."

  Her brow frowned a bit, her pretty lips pouted. Nope. That's Right. Not Fabrizio, Alcide, or Edward. Just Ralph.

  "My name means 'wolf counsel,' meaning clever, crafty. How do you propose we continue this, lovely Lyda?"

  Lyda's response was to step forward to the man who had her pussy juice drying on his hand and fingertips, gazing deep into his eyes, her blue gaze peering into his impenetrable dark browns as she groped his substantial mound of manhood.

  Lyda grinned because he was truly gifted in that part, distracting her from noticing that, after all he'd just done with her, and how he'd watched as he touched her and made her lose control of herself in public where anyone might stumble upon them or might've watched in secret while he was fingering her to ecstasy...

  Ralph wasn't even the least bit aroused in the manly junk department.

  There wasn't anything amazing about his gift anymore. There was nothing that could surprise him or get him curious and interested when he already know.

  Whether he believe it to be superior knowledge or stealthy insight, there is no mystery or arousal in sex for him anymore. Not even the intricacies of humanity's most basic desire, given to him as this lovely Lyda, the beautiful, luscious, and sensuous Blonde, could rouse him.

  Ralph took Lyda's professionally manicured hands and pushed them backward, making her pale breasts jump out of her dress to him. Those breasts wanted Ralph, too. They wanted his hands on them, his mouth and tongue on them.

  He gazed intently into her blue eyes a long while before burrowing his face into the fragrant valley between her spectacular twin breasts, parting them with his nose and mouth, before gently using the back of his head to raise her chin and tilt her head backward, exposing her warm throat to him.

  She did so willingly.

  With her neck so exposed, he could see her pulse throbbing in the dark, and hear her breathing, more like panting, as he sensually nipped and bit her there, on either side of her neck. Then, he paused, until she pushed her face against his and he pulled back to gaze into her soul.

  "Let's not continue this here, tonight. You need a break from me."

  She panicked at once. "But why?"

  "Because, if we do continue, you'll become madly in love with me by dawn," he whispered bluntly.

  He could see it in her bright eyes that she believed him, and well she should - he was telling the truth.

  "I'd prefer to get your number for now, and give you time to calm down and reconsider what we've done here together for at least a few days, Lyda," he stated matter-of-factly.

  Lyda's eyes lit up even more, her emotions suddenly spiking and shifting from lust to an overwhelming respect for his self-control. He must be even more powerful and amazing in the sack, in a full-out fuck. She couldn't wait but wanted to have it all, now and later. But...

  Her emotions were already out of control and wanting... everything, the entire world, perhaps the world and Heaven, too. And those, she seemed to believe, were on the tips of Ralph's fingers.

  Her gaze went down to his crotch, and Ralph slipped his phone out, opened his call list for a new number, and handed it to her. He could do it with just a glance. He'd done this that many times.

  But, she rubbed like a cat against his clothed cock.

  "Give me your number," he stated, again, a little brusquely, but she didn't notice. She was already becoming Mrs. Ralph in her mind.

  Finally, Lyda entered her information - cell phone, home phone, and work number. "Oh, and my parent's number!" then gave his phone back to Ralph with a huge smile on her face. She was glorious, delicious. Who wouldn't want to fuck her and love her?

  Ralph gave her a gentle but quick peck on the lips, making time to bite her juicy lower lip before he unhurriedly backed away, his steady Earth brown gaze on her hopefully lost-in-Heaven blues.

  Yes. She'd easily fall in love with him.

  He winked before walking away.

  Chapter Four

  RALPH HAD DELETED the Blonde's number before she'd gotten back to her drunk and hysterically giggling friends or before he'd reached the exit out of the Lazy Egret, passing the many fresh lovelies lined up to get inside.

  No. He already knew he'd never fall in love with her, no matter how lovely and responsive she was. He needed... something.

  Ralph's interactions these days with women, even women his friends would assume he'd be interested in, always ended this way. He knew it wasn't the women. And he knew that his friends didn't
really know him, not as well as they thought or felt.

  If he were in the mood to reveal all, which he wasn't, he would've told everyone about his covert knowledge and joked, asking them all to point him in the right direction to cure his perpetual ennui.

  "Tell me. What do I need? Who do I need?"

  But, he didn't, because he'd have to truly ask, "You don't know me or want to truly know the innermost real me, do you?"

  So Ralph deleted Lyda's number from his phone and pretty much had already dumped her existence from his memory even though he'd just had his fingers on the hot, dripping wet crux of the matter, so to speak. Her matter, not his.

  And, it was just ten thirty in the evening when he hit the street.

  Although it was more of a feeling, an inner urge rather than a full mental decision to go this way, he knew where he was heading. His steps were neither fast nor slow as he enjoyed the feeling of cooling off, of the wonderful and undemanding peacefulness of being only with himself. He enjoyed the plentiful fresh air in his lungs and the easy exercise of his body, as with every step and breath, he cleansed himself and exorcised himself of the many clinging and cloying needs from the many wannabes who'd longingly watched him, wanted him, and projected their desires upon him back at the Lazy Egret club.

  Well, he wasn't returning there tonight, as he imagined their desires dissolving away from him like grasping ghostly vaporous fingers. Going, going, gone...

  Ralph headed several blocks to another club with no clue what he'd do there, only that he had no desire to go back to his empty apartment suite yet, nor to return to where he'd found Lyda. He'd been there, done that, and his fingertips didn't itch to return, either.

  He was both restless and bored; restlessly bored, bored restless or something he couldn't fully put a finger on-pun not intended. Or maybe it was. He liked just walking, sometimes, even though it seemed most people hated to drag themselves just five hundred feet from just past handicap parking to the door.

  As he progressed block by block, Ralph was passing, then leaving behind, the occasional interested hottie who'd perk up at the sight of him. Or perhaps, if you believe such things, they responded to the touch of Ralph's gold-laced white and pure aura passing through their own, like an electrifying shock or a sudden relieving relaxation of all their sins. or that sweet, clean feel that comes with a good washing,

  Whatever he had made each lovely woman he passed certain she should try to engage him. But they didn't have what he wanted, and certainly not what he needed.

  Ralph had an attractive physique and personality. But, mostly, he was most attractive in ways others couldn't really explain. He seemed brilliant, but, they didn't know why. He walked on, now, his greetings with those he passed both gracious and pleasant. But he most definitely left each lady in her over-high stiletto heels unable to keep up.

  This was his first day off, in a while, and he intended to make the most of the night, although he wasn't fully optimistic on the matter.

  He'd come out only because he was trying not to again spend the rest of his time-off sleeping like he was in a coma, which was what he'd done the last six - no, closer to nine - weeks.

  Everything had become boring to him - food, people, his job, and himself. It was like his life and all he knew no longer fit him, making him feel uneasy as an itch yet exhausted with the sameness of it all.

  He was bored with himself, although most anyone who knew him well or in passing, too, would say, "Ralph is a natural at almost everything he sets his mind to." They really had no idea about him.

  People were the easiest for him to understand, and to fool if he was inclined. He had a true knack for them, Uncanny, some might say. In fact, he could and often would crash any conversation, even with complete strangers, and soon he'd become an openly welcomed part of it, and one of them.

  But, Ralph wasn't one of them, although they thought he was, or felt that he was, or were certain they knew that he was. But they didn't know shit.

  Ralph knew better - he was apart, different, a thing most of them would not nor could ever understand in part, let alone in full.

  No matter how many times he explained it, or showed them his true self, they would never get it.

  Chapter Five

  RALPH KEPT THIS truth, his truest self, quietly to himself and kept himself quietly apart leaving most to think of him as merely independent and self-contained. He was more than that but knew better than to try to explain it to any and every one to whom he was close.

  They would just want to cling more tightly to him and, without any true satisfaction for himself, they'd suck his life completely out of him. He wasn't willing to give that much, although many would certainly ask.

  The fact that people were the easiest for him wasn't a cliche about Ralph being a people person. It's just that he could almost always tell what people he was tuned into were feeling, sometimes what they were actually thinking. So, he'd usually have a strong sense, sometimes a full knowing of what that person truly wanted or what they would do next based on this knowledge.

  He knew even what they didn't always know themselves.

  So Ralph knew exactly what to say and how to act when he was with whomever he chose to focus on; quietly getting under their skin and beyond their facades of defenses, straight to the core of who they were, or believed they were, or fantasized they'd be.

  That's why he was a phenomenon with lovers.

  And all this intuitive insight made him an excellently skilled trend analyst in his everyday life - the best highly skilled trend analyzer/trend watcher intelligence consultant in the city. Both his sexual and work achievements, for many onlookers of his public life, were the epitome of great success.

  Ralph knew better. He could feel the mid-gray chasm of emptiness growing inside him, wherein he was existing in the vortex of material success, business power, and true emotional fulfillment; the latter being the thing furthest from him, it seemed.

  His very existence was all mid-gray - no colors bright or dark, no high heat or bitter cold, no tune-filled melodies. It was just a lukewarm, cottony gray fuzz muffling everything he almost felt but really didn't.

  He was beyond the everyday listless boredom the French call ennui.

  He'd lately been thinking a lot about Paul Muad'Dib Atriedes of the sci-fi novel series "Dune" because, like Paul, he was at a point where nothing surprised him anymore - no challenges, there was nothing he couldn't see coming from a friggin' mile away, even with his eyes fully closed.

  But he still had this slight tingling, like when a limb goes a little numb, denoting the hope for a new challenge, a change that might be coming to him if he went out and let it find him and not merely lie asleep, dozing his life and energies away in a stupor.

  The unknown was yet unseen, out of his reach. He would not let go of it. It was the only thing that was keeping him sane.

  So it was this restless waiting, searching, and prowling. Tonight, he's conquered Lyda. He felt he would lie relaxed like one should in water or in quicksand, floating quietly, because intensive struggle would be death.

  Well, I'll certainly try, he thought as he remembered the expression of bliss on Lyda's face when he left her. It would continue for her for several more days until she accepted that it was all it was ever going to be, yet would still felt lucky she was able to experience that moment when others had not.

  Besides, his observation of gray existence in others told him it was a deadly thing. Many would either anesthetize or try to overexcite their feelings with drink, drugs, or sex. Or all the above. Ralph had gone through all, but... he really didn't like to drink - it was boring. He really didn't like the crippling grip of drugs - that was maddening and boring. While sex for him should be fun and not an obsession, it should be something that made you feel energetic, and remarkable, and deliriously happy for a time...

  In short, he loved life too much that he could not die hopeless.

  Presently, the reason he was still breathing was this almo
st feeling that his gray, fuzzy existence was on the brink of a change, on the very razor's edge to finding... something, different than any he has ever seen or experienced.

  Maybe, then, his death, like his life, wouldn't be gray nor fuzzy but brilliant, vibrant, and sharply clear.

  Chapter Six

  RALPH SCOOTED PAST the long line outside of Huron's Heavenly Heron Club while nodding and chuckling at Dan, the door manager/bouncer, who dramatically sighed and rolled his eyes. Those in the line protested.

  "Hey! How does he get to just breeze on in?"

  He did not wait for Dan's answer to that. He headed straight into the interiors. In this club, Ralph's name and reputation were spoken and repeated in hushed tones. He was a fucking legend here, that's why he could stroll past the line and just breeze in.

  It was a far cry when he first came here when he'd been new to the city, a mere babe straight out of a single year of community college commuting in a much smaller city. The home he'd commuted from had been in a village!

  So three years ago, after severing himself from most of his past, he'd gotten a little place to stay. The first thing he'd done was to celebrate, even without a job, yet.

  He'd overheard someone mention the club to another while he'd been carrying his meager belongings from his truck into a rental back room. Both people complained that they both never could get in. It seemed they were wholly convinced they weren't attractive enough, rich enough, and certainly not cool enough.

  To his green ears, that was a challenge.

  That night, Ralph checked out Huron's Heavenly Heron from the outside, just stood there across the street watching the people, more like just getting a vibe on the place itself. He even closed his eyes a long while and tried to find the answer within him. Is this a good place for me?

  Later, he'd gotten in line with the others who'd wanted in. A few of them had sniffed at him and laughed before declaring with superiority that they might get in, but certainly not someone as uncool and wholesome looking a hayseed as Ralph.