the colour red

The door opened.

I froze. We were on the bed, still fully-clothed but in a state of semi-disarray having been indulging in some serious foreplay since we stumbled kissing fervently through the bedroom door and tumbled in a most disorganised way onto where we lay now. You never know where an evening is going to go when you’re open to whatever happens, and this is where this one found me, me and him, Kris, the man whose lips I hung like a limpet and whose hands were all over me as though he had far more than just the two.

I froze, craned my neck to the creak. There in the shadows of this room lit only by a bedside lamp and a bulb that for some reason was red. I never questioned this but it did feel rather seductive in its own way

I stilled, my eyes finding a shape that came into focus slipping into the room and closing the door behind; a person, a man. Kris seemed either not to notice or completely unphased, that is if his erratically-wandering hands were anything to go by

I whispered to Kris that there was someone there and to my surprise he replied, so what? He offered a mere cursory glance over his shoulder and on turning back with a grin. So what, he said, you don’t mind, do you. A statement of fact or a question, I wasn’t sure by the tone.

I was about to reply when his hand went straight up my fitted black dress and made me startled and exclaim something incomprehensible and decidedly onomatopoeic.  My back momentarily arched and any follow up response was now swallowed by the red illumination.

His lips locked onto mine again and we kissed, passionately, fervently, tongues almost down each other’s throats while I sucked what air I could from the slivers of gaps between our mouths. His hand still beneath my dress and gripping my crotch, my sex, squeezing like he was teasing a lemon but nevertheless extracted yet more sexual arousal from me; so much so, for a moment I’d forgotten about the man at the door.

I looked again and the shadow, the man, who was also in part bathed in a deep red as we both were. Just ignore him, Kris said, pretend he isn’t there. Easier said than done, I thought, and I couldn’t but as the minutes became ever more heightened on feverish pitch, just as he said, I seemed to no longer care, or mind, or whatever, as Kris’s hand worked some kind of magic and before I knew I had an orgasm, unexpectedly so, being somewhat distracted my body had got on with the business without me in responding to his rough agitations under my dress and replied with a body-quaking maybe ten seconds of unadulterated bliss, sending my into a momentary haze.

It was obvious I’d cum, if only from the increasingly widening grin on his face. We kissed and then he was nibbling my neck and then my bare shoulders with no straps from my strapless black number to get in the way. I craned my head once again and the man was still there except now, even in the dim red glow, I noticed his jeans were unfastened and he now boldly stood there with his erection in his hand. It was a bit of a blur but clearly his cock was gripped between his fingers which were moving slowly along its length.

Teeth sunk into my shoulders not quite breaking the skin. He’d got a bit over-excited and now that I am sure will leave a bruise in the morning. With the same lemon-squeezing technique he made his way to my breasts, pushing them up and together again while our lips became one and sucked each other’s faces like there was no tomorrow; and as though no one was watching, except, somebody was. Weird as it felt, I no longer minded even though I was keenly aware of his presence.

My knickers were damp from my orgasms, my thighs beginning to sweat when he rolled me over onto my tummy and proceeded to unzip my tight dress which went all the way down to my waist. I head it come down easily and felt his hands slipping underneath it feeling their way, investigating each patch of skin that was slowly exposed. He lifted my dark hair and licked the back of my neck. Everything was bathed in red, subtle and yet also somehow revealing, it was a room obscured by light, if such a thing was possible.

Over he rolled me again and before I knew it he pulled the dress down from over my strapless bra and over my tummy as I lay there arms over my head as though surrendering without question. My body was using me for its own ends and my mind no longer was in control; a mind that was slowly wondering if it shouldn’t just agree with it and give in rather than doing what it usually does and overthink it.

The dress came away slithering down my torso until it was over my hips, black and white knickers on show not just to Kris but also to the stranger who stayed by the door holding his member which had grown so incredibly hard. Kris stripped off his shirt as though to make me feel less underdressed than him. He has a good build, taut but not muscular as such, lithe, fit, pale like me so clearly he also eschewed the sun at every chance. He raised my hips to make it easier to slide the tight-fitting dress clean from me.

I lay there in underwear, all black, with him between my legs now open enough to make me feel slightly self-conscious. The man by the door was masturbating now, I clearly saw. Kris leaned over me kissing my cleavage, the tops of each breast until reaching around unhooked it and pulled it away without asking. As a reflex I brought my arms over to cover myself, not that I was worried about Kris but for a moment was confused by the second man in the room, the watched, the voyeur as it seemed. Kris easily pulled my arms away and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again nothing had changed except his lips and tongue now played with my nipples being at once addictively thrilling.

I felt myself squirming under his weight and occasionally glancing towards the door. Phew, he hadn’t come any closer, which was something. How weird would that have been!

My nipples now erect were covered in his saliva and my urges and desires were truly now well ablaze inside and out. He kissed my tummy, kneaded my waist and then my hips. I wanted him but wasn’t sure I wanted the guy to be there by the door, even though oddly it felt kind of exciting.

My hip moved with the motion of his tongue, his lips, his fingers questing here and there and then into the side of my knickers when he first touched my bare sex sending a shiver right through me. Hot and cold, my body couldn’t decide which to be, but I gasped, I moaned, it didn’t even sound like me but it was. Then they too were coming off, I felt him slipping them down until they were over my bare mound and stickily removed and discarded. I was not completely naked, on view, on show, not just to Kris but also the stranger who lingered, who was masturbating without taking his eyes off us. I’d never done this before with an audience, although it was only one, still it felt strange, wrong but right, scary but exhilarating. We were kissing again, his bare chest pressed against mine, two of his fingers were rubbing my sex, rubbing my so he found my clit and was stimulating me to the extreme; he knew what he was doing, or, he was just lucky. On becoming more vigorous as though determined to make me cum, he did, I did. I came again, harder this time, and for longer. I pushed his hand away briefly and clamped my legs together until it subsided.

As soon as it had he had my thighs open again and I at that moment was too weak to refuse. I still hadn’t fully come back down to earth. I noticed the stranger now wanking himself much harder, it looked painful but clearly it wasn’t, unless he enjoyed the pain. If it wasn’t for the fact that everything in the room was either in shadows or suffused in this dim red then I’d say his face must have been flushed with the effort. Kris fingered me and then licked them, did it again and made me lick them. I tasted good, if I say so myself; the taste of sex. As I did I closed my eyes and didn’t notice until the tip touched that he was guiding his erection inside me. I looked down and couldn’t see much but felt him realising he clearly had quite a girth for a cock, I felt myself stretched, any tightness being no match for the force with which he was determined to exert: and he did exert. I winced until I felt his head popping in and then easily sliding on two orgasms-worth of vaginal secretion.

I raised my knees to ease the action letting him deep inside. Soon we were well and truly fucking, he didn’t wait more than a few seconds before, as vigorous as he made me cum, he bucked his hips against mine, each time I felt his hips colliding with mine, his balls slapping on mine. While with some men I’d noticed theirs tuck themselves in once erect, with Kris clearly his hung big and proud throughout.

We fucked and the stranger watched, masturbating harder again having slowed just before. It seemed now he could no longer help himself, his trousers now down around his ankles, his back against the door but his head craned slightly and his hand moving at speed. He seemed to match his pace to ours as Kris got faster and faster, and our hips crashed over and over, sometimes making a slapping sound and knocking the air out of me.

Kris arched right back so that all I saw was his bare chest and the underside of his stubbled chin, and just then the stranger at the door let out a low, stifled moan. I looked and just in time to see him cum, see his ejaculate a jet of white sperm, also tinted faintly red from the glow, onto his hand and fingers and no doubt onto the floor. This was so exciting to see, to watch. I hadn’t realised that it wasn’t just him watching us, but in a way, us, or me at least, watching him. It was intensely erotic, exciting, however brief it was, and it was, mere seconds, it still managed to make my own hips move faster against Kris.

I could feel I was close. Surely Kris must have been too. He hadn’t changed pace so I couldn’t tell from that. The friction between us was insane but then I felt a change and his cock seemed to grow harder, or that was my imagination and his pace stiffen until he too lost the battle and cum inside me and though I couldn’t see it, of course, I felt it, knew it, wanted it anyway, and I forced my body to reply though it didn’t need any more encouraging and then my body obliged and shuddered in extreme satisfaction.

I shook, Kris shook; the stranger opened the door and was gone, closing the door behind. The room bathed in red was once again ours, just ours, as he stayed inside me, the whole time until he went so limp he slipped out against his will. 

I turned and looked deep into the red lamp, like a moth drawn to its warmth, it glow, I felt myself falling into it, becoming it, being consumed by it, becoming myself, the colour red.

© Emmaleela


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