Fernando found a spindly chair in the corner and pulled it over. He sat down and faced the whore where she sat on the bed. Her eyes were dark and dilated, her lips slightly parted and her nipples puckered. Patches of gooseflesh had broken out on her chest, arms and thighs. She looked at him uncertainly, as if in expectation. Fernando looked back at her with perfect equanimity.
“I’m not your customer,” he said. “I’m not anything to you except what you want me to be. Do whatever you like. Whatever feels good to you.”
“I like you looking at me like this,” she said huskily. Her sooty lashes dipped as she arched her back. “Just keep doing that.”
Fernando nodded.
She cupped her heavy breasts underneath. She squeezed them up and together so that her straining nipples peaked out that much farther, obscenely so. She turned the dusky peaks under with her thumbs. She pinched her nipples between her knuckles, her nails.
Letting one breast go, she skimmed her hand down her belly. Still rolling and plucking at her nipple, she straightened her folded leg and snaked her fingers into her nether curls. She poked through the dark nest of them, ferreting out the little pink pearl at the crest. She stroked its satin hood, eased it back a bit like a foreskin from the fleshy nub it housed.
“I try not to touch it too much,” she said to him. “It’s too easy.”
She looked bruised to Fernando, though he didn’t say this. Her clit, her outer folds. Her whole pussy looked to him like one raw, swollen wound. Puffy and pummeled and weeping for yet more abuse. She parted her fringed lips and showed him just where she most liked to be touched. She circled the purpled periphery of her slit like a drain, testing the wetness that welled there, seeping.
She checked the look on his face to gauge his interest. Then she threaded one finger inside her, pumping shallowly. She threaded in another. Pushing up onto her knees in the bed, she mounted her hand from below.
“Show me your cock,” she begged him.
Fernando unfastened his pants. He drew his hard cock out and showed it to her. She stared. There was a glimmer at the tip. He pinched and spread it to show her a bit more shine. Her hips ground down on her hand. She tipped forward. She started to crawl toward him as if to take him into her mouth.
“No,” Fernando said. He put his cock back into his pants and gave her his fingers to suck instead.
She started to fuck herself in earnest then. Her eyes fluttered shut as she rode her hand and sucked at his. Her tits bounced and rippled like buoys adrift in some savage sea. She bucked her hips like a bronco, swallowing up three fingers now and crashing into the heel of her hand with bestial abandon.
Fernando smeared his fingers down her neck as she threw back her head to moan. A teardrop of fallen sweat dangled quivering from one nipple. As she came, he bent to catch the droplet like a bead of dew on his tongue, gleaning the feminine savor of her.
When he drew back, he saw that she had collapsed upright. Her fucking hand lay slack against her inner thigh. He gazed into the dark gaping pit she had opened into herself. He watched its wavelike contractions unblinking, perceiving nothing.
“Now,” she rasped, eyeing the bulging seam of his pants with open greed, “you show me how you like it.”
Fernando sliced her a smile. He stood and stroked her crackling hair. Then he turned on his heel without a word and left both her and The Red Room glaring after him.
He took his pleasure alone in the solitude of the shadowed alcove where he’d spied that couple rutting some hours before. Whether the mixed cum scents of bleach and marine he smelled there were real or imagined made no difference to him. He spilled his seed doglike over what he guessed to be the splash of that man’s, and having staked his small claim over the earth, he moved on uncaring.
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La Gorgona © CS Dark Fantasy