'Phoenyx: Flesh and Fire' Sample: Svetla - Sex Stories

'Phoenyx: Flesh and Fire' Sample: Svetla

... shoulders visibly rising and rippling. The top of her spine distended, her vertebrae pushing out like underwater eruptions, threatening volcanoes or tidal waves of destruction. A chain reaction of electric impulses fluttered from her fingers up to her triceps, deltoids, and ended in a spasmodic twitch of the head which brought her growl rumbling beyond the lower limit of human perception. “You're going down.” For that moment, I believed in shapeshifters, in werewolves – I would not have been surprised if she had burst out of her skin and lunged at me in a huge distorted storm of teeth and claws, shredding me into a shower of bl**d and entrails on the spot. Although Svetlana's inner a****l was probably more tiger than wolf, I decided. I don't know why – it just seemed to suit her. Then the Tigress of Siberia took a flying leap towards me. Split my feet wide apart with a horizontal scissors kick and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back, staring up at the curtain rails and the stage lighting rig, half-blinded by several thousand watts of power, and as stunned as a cow about to meet its end in a slaughterhouse. Svetlana's snarling face eclipsed the stabbing, probing light and then I realised she had grabbed a hold of my hair. The crop rained blows all over my hips, thighs and ass, softening me up, making me twist and shriek and waste valuable energy in the process. The audience might have been loving it, but I certainly wasn't. Having slapped me a healthy shade of red ...

... and pink all over, she dragged me on my ass to the middle of the stage and then sat down on my chest, spreading my arms out wide at my sides. “Still think you've got what it takes?” she grinned. She bounced further up my body, legs apart, and the next thing I knew I'd gone blind and deaf. The bitch was straddling my face, squeezing my head between her thighs in some bizarre attempt at simultaneously suffocating and crushing me to death. Her muscles tautened like iron, gripping me in a vice. All I could sense was the smell of her sweat, her bland perfume, and the very distinctive tang of sexual secretions. Just as I'd thought, she was getting off on all of this. In fact, I could taste it. It was a harsher, more bitter blend than that of any other woman I'd experienced, but that was no surprise – it complimented her harsh exterior. I lashed out with my feet, vainly trying to kick her in the back of the head, the shoulder, anything to loosen her grip. She twisted her hips and yanked my head from one side to the other, then I felt her bristly pubes rub me under the chin like wire wool. I opened my mouth and clamped it shut again, succeeding in catching a portion of wet folded skin between my teeth. I bit as hard as I could and then she was off me with a snarling scream, and once more I could breathe, and see light. I wiped at my mouth and realised I'd bitten into labia. Her face registered more annoyance than pain, and I gulped a long deep breath. “Gnashy, nasty little pup,” she ...