Apartment Eight Makes A Golden Challenge - Sex Stories

Apartment Eight Makes A Golden Challenge

... ladies swooned. This was best for them. Vasily made them take it. Carie stood dumbfounded by the bar, almost alone as everyone else had rushed the stage. She grimaced, her chin drifting off to the side, chewing on the edge of her bottom lip. Seeing him up there glistening, grinding and firing his pelvis like Elvis on steroids, just totally going for it, sent a surge of conflicting thoughts and feelings through in her stunned skull. He was hot and sexy. Like every other woman in the room, her loins were stirring. She shimmied and pulled at the hem of her short, black, evening dress pretending to tug it down, when really she was just shifting the thin film of moisture building up between her thighs. The knot in her tummy alternately tightened and loosened. She was turned on one moment, apprehensive the next. That was Vasily up there, her neighbour across the hallway of her apartment. He was on the stage because of her. He was almost naked, dancing and oozing masculine sexuality in front of a room full of carnal-minded banshees because of her. They all desired him. They all wanted a taste... a taste she was intimately familiar with. She was sharing him with others. She didn’t like it. “Go, Boris! Go, Boris! Go! Go! Go, Boris!” the women chanted, using their hot passion to make their Adonis dance and grind for them. Somewhere in Vasily’s head, a tiny little version of himself sat stone-faced in a corner, arms crossed thinking this was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen. ...

... “You are a rock. You are a statue,” the tiny man in his head said, “you are not a prancing pony.” “Take it off! Take it off!” the crowd beckoned. Vasily cracked a smile. He was not a prancing pony. He was a stud… a stud galloping across an open, fertile range. Carie’s jaw dropped as she slowly shook her head in disbelief. “No… way,” she droned. Vasily tilted his chin towards Johnny, catching the M.C.’s eye. He touched the lid of his cap. Johnny winked and got on the mic, “Oh! What do we hear? ‘Take it off’? Take Boris off the stage? Is that what you want?” There was a chorus of boos. “I’m sorry,” Johnny teased, “we can’t hear from all the ‘rain’ in the room!” The savvy crowd knew what that meant. Dollar bills were flung onto the catwalk from every corner. Vasily doffed his sweaty baseball cap, exposing his short-shaven head, then tossed it into the scrum. There was another round of boos for this tease. Johnny shook his head and waved his hand. “Nope. I guess we’re calling for a downpour tonight!” A torrent of bills showered onto the stage. Vasily stepped on money in his barefeet for the first time in his life. It felt amazing. It shut up the tiny man in his head for good. Carie edged closer to the brass railing lining the bar level. She chewed on her lower lip and bounced quickly on the toes of her high heel shoes. She wanted to see this. She didn’t want to see this. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit… ” Vasily planted his feet on the stage, shoulder width apart. He touched a clasp ...