The house was filled with people, old friends, acquaintances and some I didn’t know at all. There was free flowing liquor, deafening music, louder conversation and the familiar New Year adornments. It was going to be a grand night and an exuberant birth of the New Year.
I pushed my way through the throngs of people, stopping only to say hello to those I knew as I headed to the bar. I leaned against the unforgiving wood and practically had to shout my order to the bar tender. “A glass of White Zinfandel, please!” He smiled and proceeded to pour. While he was busy I glanced around, amazed at the amount of people that were stuffed into every corner. I had yet to see the hostess of this event but knew she was here, somewhere among the bodies. I turned when the bar tender touched my bare shoulder, letting me know my drink was ready. I smiled at him and mouthed ‘thank you’ forgoing any further vocal attempt. By the end of the night most everyone here would be hoarse just from trying to carry on a conversation.
I turned back around, watching the menagerie while I sipped at my wine. Crowds always amused me. The games people play and with the infusion of alcohol bolstering their confidence, making them act in a way they’d most likely regret. I finally spotted the hostess, Emily, as she chatted up some man I didn’t know. Leave it to Emily to make friends so easily. She was laughing and appeared to be enjoying herself and the man seemed pleased at the attentions of the beautiful hostess. I watched as Emily touched his shoulder softly, in her classic parting gesture and moved away, making room for a close group of women to swoop in, surrounding him with their titters. It was like they’d never seen a man before and were astounded by the specimen before them.
She finally noticed me, smiling and waving from across the room. I returned her smile and wave, watching as she made her way through a thick spot of bodies toward me. While I waited for her, I glanced back at the man. He was completely encircled, the women drawn like moths to a flame, unwilling to leave his abundant light. I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head. She finally managed to push through the group and wrapped me in a tight welcoming hug. “Oh Marci, I’m so glad you could make it.”
I returned her hug just as tightly and smiled at her comment. “Emily, now did you really think I’d miss one of your parties? You always invite the most fascinating people.”
She laughed and relaxed against the bar as we both watched the crowd a minute. I was curious about the man she had been speaking with but didn’t dare ask, knowing full well Emily would transform into cupid before my eyes. She ordered a drink and while waiting for it asked, “Have you met John yet?” I shook my head no, a bit taken aback by her question. She knew I didn’t know over half the people here and the fact that she asked about a specific one made me wonder her intentions. She exclaimed excitedly, “Ooooh…you simply have to meet him Marci!” Her excitement wasn’t unusual but it did put my guard up just a little.
I inquired cautiously, “Would he be the one engulfed by the swarm of woman in his general vicinity?”
The bar tender sat her drink on the bar effectively interrupting her immediate reply. She smiled and gave him a sultry wink before answering. “Yes, that’s John.” Her answer was much too simple. I expected more, a full detail of his life and his plans for the future.
I raised my brows, waiting for the rest of the story and was genuinely surprised when nothing more was forthcoming. “And?”
“And nothing. He is a friend of a friend. You know me Marci, I can’t turn anyone away, especially an intriguing man.”
I laughed, “Emily, ALL men are intriguing to you.”
“True, but some are much more intriguing than others, Marci. You’ll understand when you meet him.” The smile that painted her face was a little too sweet.
Emily had dangled the bait and knew I couldn’t resist. I watched as John dealt with the eager tarts, giving each some attention and still managing to glance our way frequently. I noticed his glimpses and began to wonder what Emily had told him. I scarcely noticed that Emily had become engaged in conversation with a mutual acquaintance while I watched John disentangle himself from the cluster of femininity. As he parted the ladies' company, he left lingering pouts.
Emily was right; there was something definitely intriguing about this man.
He moved fluidly through the crowd heading straight for us. I assumed he meant to get better acquainted with Emily and resigned myself to my drink and watching the crowd in various stages of intoxication. I downed the last sip of my wine and turned, getting the bar tender's attention. I tapped my glass, the universal silent plea for another. He nodded and gathered my glass for the refill. I watched his efficiency and knew Emily had gone all out by hiring a professional. I was lost in thought when I felt a warm body behind me, brushing against my ass as I leaned against the bar. I couldn’t help but jump and quickly turned around, only to be face to face with John.
I was about to give John a piece of my mind about personal space when something stopped me. I felt the heat of a blush crawling across my body and planting itself on my face. My mouth worked and eventually words issued forth, “Oh, I am sorry. Obviously, I’m in the way here.”
He smiled and shook his head, “No, you’re fine just where you are. I’m John.”
He stuck out his hand and waited patiently for me to do the same. I tentatively took his hand and shook it, “Hello John, I’m Marci.”
“Emily’s friend. Wonderful! I’ve been hoping to meet you.” His eyes twinkled devilishly.
I was a bit confused, unsure exactly what he meant. It was then that I realized our hands were still connected in an overly long handshake. I glanced down and pulled my hand, almost reluctantly, free from his grip, gathered up my refreshed drink and attempted to move further down the bar. The effort was futile as the mob of people seemed to press in, locking me between the bar and John. I was stuck. I felt John press closer and just then Emily noticed us.
She was all smiles as her hostess personality kicked in and introductions ensued, “Marci this is John. John…Marci.”
I was about to tell her that we’d already met when John spoke up, “Emily, you didn’t tell me Marci was such a heavenly creature.”
I felt the blush renew itself as he poured out his compliment to my friend. I couldn’t look at either of them and simply stood there, finding unusual patterns in the carpet. If I had been looking I’d have seen that John’s eyes never left me while he spoke to Emily.
“She is glorious, isn’t she?” Emily exclaimed deepening the blush encasing my body.
“Yes…yes she is.” John’s voice brooked no argument from anyone standing close and daring to disagree.
I could feel the heat rising from my body as John and Emily discussed me like I was a new pet. My dress did nothing to hide my flushed flesh and tightening nipples. My sex was tingling and growing moist under their scrutiny. I glanced up through my lashes hoping neither of them noticed my apparent condition.
Emily winked and gave me a knowing smile. Before I could ask her what she was trying to covertly tell me, the bar tender captured her attention. From the bits of conversation I could hear, there was a minor problem but it needed Emily’s immediate attention.
“I’ll give you two time to get better acquainted, as it appears I am needed elsewhere.” She turned to John smiling, “It was a pleasure meeting you. Please enjoy yourself.”
His smile was warm with a hint of darkness, “Oh, I intend to Emily, thank you.”
Wrapping me in one of her famous hugs she whispered, “Marci, enjoy tonight. I expect to hear all about it.” Before I could say anything, she was gone, consumed by the crowd.
“Well, it’s just you and me, Marci,” he said as his fingers danced along my arm, sending electricity to my heated core.
I cleared my throat, took a drink of my wine, and met his gaze, “It appears that way, John.” I couldn’t help trembling as I looked into his eyes. I saw a burning need there; a lust unfulfilled and knew I was in trouble.
I couldn’t deny this man.
I relinquished my glass to the bar as John took a half step closer, pushing his body against mine, and whispered hotly against my ear, “I’d like to get to know you better, Marci, but not here. Let’s go somewhere a little less crowded. Shall we?” I felt his fingers grasp my arm, the hold was unmistakable and it fanned the inferno raging through my body.
He pulled me away from the bar, his fingers tightening as we moved through the crowd like they didn’t exist. We made our way to a door I recognized, just off the main room and I knew even before John opened it what room we were about to enter. I’d spent a night or two behind that door. Emily had always let me stay if I needed to and this was the room I’d used.
He opened the door with a flourish, the light behind us revealing the contents. It was a tidy room with a double bed; nightstands occupying the sides, closet, and desk with a chair. Another door led to the full bathroom. It was a typical spare room, one I knew intimately. He shut the door and flipped the light switch causing the shadows to scurry away. He finally released my arm, leaving reddened stripes against my creamy flesh. Until then, I hadn’t noticed how tightly he held me.
“Please, sit Marci.” Gesturing to the bed while he pulled the chair from the desk and made himself comfortable.
I moved to the bed and sat, well aware that my dress was much too short. The hem rode high on my thighs, allowing John ample opportunity to ogle the lace stocking tops and garters holding them. I tried to smooth it down, willing a few extra inches to magically appear but to no avail. The midnight silk was betraying me, doing little to hide my arousal. I could feel John’s eyes raking over my form, taking in my protruding nipples, my quick panting breaths and how I shivered under his gaze.
I was caught.
“Are you nervous Marci?” I could hear the amusement in his voice and looked into his face. He was enjoying this and didn’t try to hide that fact.
“No, I’m not nervous John. Should I be?” My voice didn’t hold the confidence I was hoping for and he noticed.
He leaned back in the chair, looking much more relaxed then I felt. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Stand up and turn slowly. I want to see you.” He didn’t ask, he ordered in a soft yet demanding way and I found myself rising onto the obscenely high heels. Turning slowly as he’d instructed, his gaze searing my body and though I remained dressed, I felt stripped.
“Stop.”
My back was to him when he issued the command. I stopped and waited, my heart racing and blood rushing.
“Bend over the bed.”
I couldn’t have stopped even if I’d wanted to and soon found myself face down against the bed, my ass high, my cheek pressed against the comforter while my fingers clawed at the softness. I heard him shift and felt his hand against my upturned ass, stroking lazily, admiring with his touch. My black lace thong was soaked through and I felt my cunt tighten, dripping my essence slowly down my inner thigh. I knew my dress wasn’t long enough, especially in this position, to hide my arousal and if John didn’t know before, he definitely knew now.
“You like it when someone orders rather then asks, don’t you Marci? It makes you hot, hungry and needy. It turns you into a slut, doesn’t it?” His voice was low and husky, in his self-assured analysis.
All I could do was whimper.
I heard his low chuckle, “Yes, that’s what I thought.”
I could hear the party, just beyond the door, rising in volume as the minutes ticked away to the New Year. As if on queue, John pulled his hand away from my ass, only to bring it down with a resounding smack.
I yelped, more shocked than in pain, the din outside the door stifling my own noise. I felt stinging heat rising from the cheek he’d abused, the silk offering no protection from his surprising assault. My scent rose, thick and heady, and at that moment I knew that I’d be unconventionally ringing in the New Year.
I felt his hand pull away and readied myself for another attack but he didn’t land another blow. I pushed myself up onto my hands, looking over my shoulder, and saw John, relaxed and seeming content in the chair.
“I can smell you, Marci, and each breath is laced with your flavor.” I saw his lips twitch and eyes darken. His voice controlled and definite when his next order fell, “Stand up and face me.”
I felt like a puppet and John was the puppeteer as I stood before him. My legs trembling as I slowly turned, carrying out his recent demand…my heart thundering and body twitching; my arousal and sense that something powerful was coming grew in leaps and bounds. I quickly glanced to the door. John noticed, his lips curling into a smirk but offering no assurances of privacy.
The moment seemed surreal, dreamlike, as he reached out and captured my left wrist, tugging me closer and suddenly pulling. I fell over his left leg with a grunt, teetering at the unnatural weight distribution and my right hand shot out against the plush carpet to steady myself, while my left remained in his steely grip. His right leg came down over my left; his right hand moved to my hip and pulled me tightly to his body. I writhed and whimpered trying to escape the situation I’d so blindly fallen into, discovering I was effectually trapped.
Just beyond the door, the crowd was beginning to roar. John caressed my ass as he spoke, “Do you hear that Marci? From the sound of things, it must be getting close to midnight. I wonder what people would think if they saw you like this? Over a stranger's knee getting your ass blistered.”
My squirming renewed, hoping that his grip would loosen and I could rejoin the crowd. I knew shouting would do no good and felt his control tighten. I mewled as I looked at the door and prayed that it would remain closed.
He leaned toward my head to be sure I heard, “I wonder what Emily would think?”
In that moment I knew. I remembered Emily’s curiosity…wondering if I’d met John, her exuberant attitude about him and that I simply had to meet him. I remembered her ‘too sweet’ smile and wink. Emily had played cupid after all and I resigned myself over John’s strong leg. There was no escaping this trap. Emily knew me too well, knew all my dark secrets and I played perfectly into the plan.
John felt my submission and knew I’d realized the game. As his palm slid over my upturned ass he whispered, “It’s so close now Marci. Can you feel it?”
The tension in both our bodies was palpable. I squirmed gently and for the first time felt his stiff cock against my hip. This excited him as much as it did me. My voice was wanton, “Yes John, I feel it.” I knew John was not referring to his cock but figured since I was part of this elaborate game; I’d play it up.
John laughed, “Oh…baby… your delectable ass is just begging for tonight’s events. I intend to hear you scream and feel you cum, right here, over my knee as I rain down thunder.”
My fate was revealed and I honestly looked forward to it. I wanted to feel the stinging burn of his unyielding hand. I needed this man to test my limits, to push me beyond what I’d currently experienced. Truth be told, I craved to do exactly what he wanted, to take his beating and cum, spilling my juice over his expensive pants. I hungered to leave my scent on him, much like a cat. I wanted all those women, just outside the door, to smell me and know I was his chosen pet for the evening.
I heard the crowd roar again and felt John remove his hand from my ass to look at his watch. “We’re going to have a very special count down, Marci. We still have a minute before it begins and I want to hear you beg. Beg for it, baby.”
I whimpered, sure that my beating was about to begin, and whined that it didn’t. I writhed against him, anxious for this to start, and heard myself moaning. “Please John, please beat me. Please bring in the New Year with the sound of your hand against my willing ass. Please John…please.”
“Of course Marci.”
His hand landed abruptly, hard and unforgiving. I gasped at the sheer power of it. The swat he’d given me while I was over the bed was nothing compared to this first blow. His hand left a burning print through the meager silk. I arched, pushing my ass higher, hungry for the next whack.
I wasn’t disappointed. His hand came down, even harder than the first, painting my other cheek with his mark. I moaned whorishly as the sting wound its way into my inflamed core. My hips rutted against his leg as his hand moved swiftly to ply another blow.
My hips thrust up, meeting his hand as it landed in a bone-jarring wallop. I felt my clit quiver and pussy throb, the pain only adding to the pleasure as I bucked. I had become the slut he’d mentioned and brazenly used his leg to stimulate my clit and push me toward oblivion.
He swiftly brought about the next two vigorous blows consecutively. My body thrashed and voice sang in wanton lust. Even if someone outside could hear me, I wouldn’t have cared. I needed this.
I felt his fingers pulling at the silk, the hem rising well above my aching ass. I felt his cock twitch and I knew my ass was flaming red, framed by black lace. There was no denying my need as I pushed my backside up, offering him my fiery flesh for his next blows.
“Please…John…harder.” I was astounded by my plea and equally fervent for him to accept. Again, I wasn’t disappointed.
His hand came down and the sound of flesh meeting flesh was exquisite, like the pop of firecrackers on the 4th of July. I cried out, as the burn fanned the wildfire already set ablaze. In his ministrations, John had released my left hand and I found his hard throbbing member easily. I tugged at his zipper, wanting to feel the hot iron flesh. Thankfully, John helped me out and released his raging cock to my hand.
I began to stroke his turgid manhood when he suddenly sent a barrage of blows raining down. His cock temporarily forgotten as I bucked and squirmed, moaned, and screamed, lost in the sensations he was producing. My hips writhed against his leg and my clit burned with the same heat that my ass was receiving. I was seconds away and he knew it.
I felt his fingers dig into the lace at my lower back and pull, tearing it apart. His eager fingers plundered my slick aching fuck hole. He panted, “Cum baby. Cum for me.”
I trembled with pent-up need, moaning out my lusty desire, and just as I was about to fall, he pulled his fingers from my twitching hole and landed the final blow. The force sent me spiraling. I thrashed and screamed, spilling my essence over his pants. The pain of the last blow was a beacon to the pleasure. I felt the stinging ache but coupled with the pleasure, it took on a powerful momentum. At that moment, I couldn’t stop cumming.
John held me tightly as I thrashed through the continuous waves and in the inky blackness of oblivion I knew I wanted more. I began the descent back to this world and whispered hoarsely, “John, please.”
He turned me over in his lap and picked me up in his strong arms, carrying me the short distance to the bed. As he put me down he panted hungrily against my ear, “On your hands and knees baby.” There was no doubting that he wanted to see his masterpiece while he plowed my pussy.
I moved into position, my thighs wide, bright red ass high, and seeping cunt hungry. I hissed as his fingers caressed my blazing backside. He moved in behind me and brushed his cock against my sopping slit. I moaned pushing back and heard his low growl, “Greedy little slut aren’t you?”
I couldn’t help myself. He created me and I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he’d just given. I whimpered softly and just as I was about to beg, I felt his cock plunge. My hungry cunt consumed every last inch of him with that single thrust. He was still wearing his clothes, only his cock was unveiled, and as he buried his cock, his shirt rubbed against my blistering ass.
I hissed and moaned, the sensation already sending me along the razor’s edge. He began a hard and fast rhythm, taking my willing body and laying claim to what we both knew he already owned.
I matched his thrusts, wanting to feel his seed splashing in my hungry hole, painting me in much the same way his hand had marked my ass. I squeezed my cunt muscles around his cock and heard his approving sounds. I felt the familiar white heat and knew I couldn’t last much longer.
John’s balls slapped against my clit with each power-driven thrust, his shirt continually brushed my scorched ass driving me to the point of no return. I felt his cock swell and hips grind hard. I sensed he was close and bit down on my bottom lip, willing my own release at bay. I reached between my thighs and my fingers found his balls, caressing them as my cunt squeezed, milking his eruption from him.
I felt his fingers dig into my hips then draw over my well-beaten ass, breaking his rhythm and bellowing in victory. I felt his hot cum splashing my core, listened as he cried out to the gods and his pleasure brought my own. I tensed briefly and then exploded in a kaleidoscope of ecstasy, bucking and moaning as I rode out the extreme pleasure. I collapsed on the bed, still shuddering in aftershocks and John followed me down.
He rolled onto his back wearing a silly satisfied smile as he brushed an errant wisp of hair behind my ear. “Happy New Year Marci.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “Happy New Year to you, John.”
When I could walk, I opened the door and peered into the crowd. Our special New Year’s entertainment seemed to go unnoticed except for one. I smiled at Emily and hugged her tightly, whispering, “Thank you. That’s just what I needed. Happy New Year, Emily.”
Emily returned the hug, “For you Marci, anything. I am glad you enjoyed it as much as I suspected you would. Happy New Year.”
Every year after, John and I made sure that we rang it in with a sound blistering. And every year we thanked Emily for bringing us together to start our unconventional New Year’s tradition.
