Club Fatale, Pt. 8 - Sex Stories

Club Fatale, Pt. 8

... repeated the process, soon giving her a second sloppy serving of sperm that bubbled out of her lips and nose. Twice more the feeding process was repeated until her lips and lower face were liberally coated with the jizz of four men. Jacob stepped forward and caressed Judy’s pretty face. His hands slid across her fine jaw, moved to the thick silver chain about her neck, and suddenly tightened and twisted. Her mouth fell open but caught no air; she had already breathed her final breath. Her hands went to his waist as she prepared to fight him, but Jacob simply nodded and the man to either side of her grasped an arm and held tight and vice-like. Twisting, struggling against her fate, she was held and snuffed before him -- semen dripping down her red lips, onto his engorged cock. As the music reached its climax so did Judy’s worthless life. Jacob cried out and came, blowing his load on her face and open mouth. Viv’s face pressed to my chest and I held her as she sobbed. My eyes returned to the redhead. Aroused, a hand in her crotch, her eyes flicked from the dying girl’s to mine and back again. My cock jumped. My hands went down Viv’s back and I squeezed her ass. Together, the redheaded girl and I shared Judy’s final moments, as we looked into each other’s eyes, intimately. Finally, inevitably, Jacob released the brunette; Judy’s corpse slumped to the floor like a used party favor. A few moments passed to allow the audience to reflect on the beauty of what had just transpired ...

... before them. It wasn’t long, however, before the music began again and the process continued: perform and snuff, perform and snuff... It played that way, like a funeral dirge from the beginning of time. Turning, I guided Viv away from the stage and over to the bar. She wiped her eyes and accepted the stiff drink I gave her. She would need as many as she could get before the end of this night. “A pleasure seeing you here, tonight,” a familiar voice said. I turned. “Mr. Kensington,” I responded, and shook his hand. “It’s Adrian, Evan,” he said. “Or if you prefer: Ken. Though I haven’t gone by that nickname since my college days.” “Ken it is,” I said. “And you know Olivia,” he said. She was radiant on his arm, dressed in pale white silk that left her arms and one slender leg bare. White-blonde hair put up in a French twist, eyes bright and blue. I stared at her almost sadly; I hadn’t expected Kensington to bring her to this room, on this night. “She would like a dance with you, if she may,” Kensington said. “Of course,” I said. “An honor, Miss Olivia.” I left Vivian with Ken and stepped out on the floor with the supple blonde. She was light on her feet, gliding with me through a soft song. “I truly regret that we’ve had no time together, Mr. Anderson,” Olivia said, somewhat hesitantly. “As do I,” I returned. “You dance like an angel...” “I’d like to ask you for a gift, if I may, sir. Would you... aid me tonight, Mr. Anderson? I know that it’s a lot to ask of you. We don’t know each ...