Page 66 of Voracious

“My dick has been hard since I walked in and saw you dressed like that. Dance, then I’ll deal with it.”

Even with the fire and the red lighting, I still see her blush.

The song starts from the beginning, louder this time, and my entire focus is on Stacey. On the burning sticks in her hands, the black polish, the dark hair scraped away from her face. She has minimal make-up on, just a red lipstick I’ve imagined staining my cock, and her body harness is taut over her lithe form.

She was going to just wear her bra and panties instead of her strapped bodysuit, but lately, Stacey has been majorly against herself. Instead of showing off every curve I’ve run my tongue all over andworshipped, she covers up her midsection and wears netted tights.

Everything about her to me is perfect. I wish she’d see it – the way her body moves with the music as she twirls and lets the flames flow around her. She’s bendy, something I also love about her. When her leg flies up and she points her latex boots to the ceiling, she drags the fire stick against the inside of her thigh, over her pussy, then to her tits before pulling herself back to a standing position.

I gulp and try to pretend my cock isn’t painful and twitching in my shorts.

Her eyes find mine as she moves slowly, sensually with the fire. I push myself up and sit against the wall, bending one leg at the knee and attempting to hide how hard I am. I don’t want to distract her, even though I want to throw her onto a crash mat and fuck her into oblivion.

The main beat within the song comes, and she speeds up a little, the flames moving faster, the fear settling in my gut when I see how close they are to her face. She’s been training fire dance for a while, and I know she’ll be fine, but I’m too paranoid.

She drops into a side split and drags the flames all over her. The action makes her ass pop out again, and I itch to touch it.

Would it be inappropriate to have a wank while she dances?

My head snaps into a slant as she tips her head back and opens her mouth, tongue out, and I watch as she slides the fire stick into her mouth. She swallows the flame, and I blow out a heavy breath.

That’s… new. And hot. I want her to do that with my dick.

She grabs a ball-and-chain-looking thing and lights it on the small flame in front of her while still in her routine.

Her eyes are dark sins; fierce as the fire she circles around her body. She glides the flaming ball against her arm as she arches to the side, balancing on one foot on her tiptoes and spinning.

I gulp again as she switches back to the staff and turns to face me, spinning the thing between her fingers like a majorette baton.

Stacey eats up the distance with flames twirling around her perfect form, eyes not leaving mine as I try not to let my mouth fall open. I’ve always found her sexy, hotter than hell itself, and seeing her dance with fire and regard me with a look that begs me to fuck her, my dick gets even harder.

Her heels stop at my feet, and she kicks my bent leg. I flatten it and watch as she lowers into my lap, the flames hot against my skin. She drags the stick down her front, and I keep my hooded gaze on her eyes as she tosses it into a bucket next to us, dousing the fire, the studio darkening.

The song still plays on repeat as she wraps her arms around my neck, rolling her hips with the music, not quite against my dick but close. She needs to lower a bit more for contact. It’s killing me so much that my hands shake, but I let her keep going.

“You’re killing me, Freckles.”

She tugs at my hair so my head drops back, then sinks her teeth into my throat just as she fully grinds against me. I let out a growl as she sucks on my skin, but I don’t move. I don’t use my hands or try to stop her as she marks my flesh. I don’t lift my hips to meet each movement of hers. I give her full control of me as she slowly dry-rides me to the song.

Each drop of the base, I feel my balls tighten, the urge to flip her and fuck her so fucking strong. She licks and sucks at my throat, dragging her lips up my neck to my ear, taking the lobe between her teeth.

The song ends, but then it starts again. Fuck. I’m fucked.

She releases my hair with one hand and slides one side of her black leather harness down her shoulder. But I stop her. “Don’t,” I whisper, barely able to breathe. “Keep it on.” I drop my hand between us, tugging the buttons at the bottom of her bodysuit. “I want this off.”

Once I get all the buttons, I freeze, looking up at Stacey. “I don’t have panties on,” she says with a flirty shrug. “They’re annoying to move around in.”

Her pussy is wet against my fingers, and I decide I’m taking over. My other hand reaches up to her throat as I cup her fully, rubbing against her entrance andclit.

Her lips part, the red lipstick smudged across her cheek.

She’s pulsing against my palm as I caress her cunt. I grit my teeth. “Dance.”

One word. One order. One syllable that has her pupils dilating and her hips rolling to the dangerously slow beat. She complies, resting both elbows on my shoulders as she rocks into my hand, coating me in her pleasure, her arousal dripping from her. Through the music, I hear her little gasps and whimpers as I slide a finger inside.

Her inner walls grip me as I add a second, but she only moves more, fucking my hand, my fingers buried deep as her thighs soak with her arousal.

I let go of her throat and free my cock, stroking myself while I watch her. Stacey’s head falls back, her body writhing above me.

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