Scintillectually Yours

Ang, our dear Sweltering Celt, has given us another gem. This MFM was inspired by a true story. Oh, how some visuals still pack a punch!

We had stumbled into a Brazilian costume party. The club was open to anyone but clearly  a special party had been organized. Most of the die-hard regulars must have known, as we were surrounded by heterosexual couples in all manner of disguise. However, as many of the men were dressed in drag, it was hard to tell who was here for the party and who was just club-hopping.

I sat on a high stool with my back to the wall nursing a seltzer and cranberry juice. Those things can be potent, you know. I watched my friends dance in the midst of the revelry…it looked like a small slice of Rio had landed in Massachusetts in October. When I turned back to take another sip of my drink my eye was caught again by the couple sitting in the corner. They had been pretty serious about their public display of affection up until now. Par for the course on a Friday night when the drinks are flowing, the music is loud, and the lighting sucks. This was different, somehow, and I found myself staring.

The girl (beautiful, young, dark skin and long, thick hair) had been wearing one of those tiny nurse’s costumes. There were several floating around. I had noted, with a mixture of envy and admiration, that she filled hers out rather nicely. Her (date/friend/lover?) was wearing chefs whites with an apron tied loosely around his waist and checked pants. He knew the uniform…probably worked in a kitchen. He faced her now, her legs wrapped around his backside, his pants looked suspiciously baggy. I savored a long sip of my drink as I took in her white thigh-high stockings, garter belt now clearly visible from the side of her body closest to me, and her Fredericks of Hollywood “come fuck me” pumps in requisite white.

They were no longer kissing…no longer filled with the fervor with which they had been tackling each other earlier in the evening. Now, it was slow, intimate. I almost turned away but my gaze lingered on his ass. Moving almost imperceptibly. My brain popped a synaptic response. They’re fucking! One would think that jaded old me wouldn’t be shocked at such a thing. Perhaps I wasn’t shocked so much as intrigued. Jealous. I felt my own cunt grow wet, my clit grow hard and crossed my legs tighter. Raised my glass to my lips, unconsciously licking them, as I continued to intrude on their moment. No one else seemed to notice. Her head was thrown back and he reached down to kiss her exposed throat. The muscles in his back and arms rippled as he continued to silently, steadily pump his cock into her.

My imagination was going wild. I wanted to stand next to them. See the physical connection between the two of them. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair, expose her breast, pinch her dark nipple, guide his movements. My glass was suddenly snatched out of my hand as I was surrounded by three of my friends. They unceremoniously yanked me off of my coveted bar stool and began to pull me into the sweaty throng. I looked back longingly and watched her nails dig into his back just before I was swallowed up by the crowd.

pumpkin head, that is. Halloween is days away and I’m sharing this week’s HNT with my good friend Jack. Here’s wishing you all a dark and sinister All Hallows Eve. Now don’t forget to stop by Osbasso’s site for more tricks and treats!