Blank, Sex & Murder - Chapter 11 and 12
Oral Sex / Blowjob
Author: egsaunders, Source: sexstories.com
E.G. Saunders took the thriller genre, blindfolded it, bent it over, and f*cked it hard. It's the same feeling his main character got when he was enticed—or was it threatened?—by a dominant, seemingly crazed beauty, into a story that will have you clutching your privates. And whether that's out of fear or pleasure is up to you. ----------------------------------------------------- Chatper 11 The place smelled of sex. Anal sex and rubber, latex and lube. And I was only past the first entrance. I stepped into a dimly lit, narrow hallway. The door closed behind me, and an electronic lock slid a thick bolt into the frame. It was all sturdy metal. I’ve been in weaker panic rooms. Apparently, they valued their security and privacy. I had no doubt that the entire building was built with the same standards. Safe house, panic room, bomb shelter all rolled into one. The outside of the building was standard fare for the area—dirty, pock-marked brick with rusting trim. The windows it once had were broken years ago and boarded. Inside, though, that was another story. I walked toward the end of the hallway—nothing fancy. Worn red carpet and dark wood paneling. Something told me that the wood might actually have been stained mahogany and not a veneer, but not being the carpenter I imagined I was, I wasn’t sure. The hallway widened and ended in a set of double doors. In front of the doors, two large desks sheltered two equally large men. Bouncers. Probably a little more than bouncers. I ...
... watched one of them move his hand under the desk at my approach. Gun probably. Shotgun. Bazooka. Yeah, he could shoot a bazooka one-handed and not move an inch. Right now he was toying with the trigger and wondering how I would look exploded. The other brute got up to open the set of doors for me. I didn’t hear the lock slide, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have one on the other side. He pulled on one door and it slid aside just enough to let my ass through. How polite of him. I walked toward the doors and nodded to each of them. They looked at me blankly and said not a word. I didn't want to talk to them, anyway. I stepped past the the men and into a darkened alcove. The wall in front of me was covered in a curtain—or was a curtain. I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder it, as the door slid shut behind me and sealed off all light. I was in darkness. I heard sex. Also, what I had smelled earlier had intensified greatly. I could easily have been on one of my last gigs. Cum and spit and the sweetened, flowery scent of a strip club fog machine was present in the alcove. Ah, home. My body reacted to the mountain of smell with a sense of revulsion. At first. It wasn’t natural. Not in this quantity. But, as on sets for long hours under the heat of lights I struck, my body started to adjust. I sat there a moment trying to get in control of myself. I wanted a drink so badly, I almost turned around to bang on the door to ask the brute brothers for one. Certainly, they must have something ...