Masked Innocence by Alessandra Torre Read Free Book Online Page B

focus, to see who he was talking about. Perverse snapshots of different possibilities battered my mind. Brad with me, Brad’s hands, cock, mouth on someone else, her pleasure, my possession. My mind desperately tried to grasp on any form of sanity, but the sexual need, the slutty side of me that was in full unadulterated glory, took the thoughts and savored them, the competitive side of me feasting on the challenge. Then I saw her, the young blonde on the couch, her body lying back, perfect cream tits exposed. The sight, the thought, the jealous arousal sent me over the edge, and an explosion of pleasure erupted in my core, my screams bursting out, unable to control myself.
    My orgasm was long, hard and insanely good—visions filling my head, my eyes opening intermittently, seeing faces, hearing words, knowing that a room was watching—the knowledge stretching out the orgasm, and I was close to sobbing when it ended, my body collapsed against him, legs useless.
    I sagged in his arms, my thighs wet, body quaking. I had just come, in front of this whole room, men staring, my breasts hanging out, my panties ripped and tossed on the floor. I should have felt like a slut, a dirty whore. But instead I felt liberated, aroused. It was an interesting discovery, to know that I liked being dirty. I wanted to be stared at, pointed to, to have men lining up to fuck me. Inside, I felt a release of some tie, some leash undone, and I knew my descent into sexual awareness was just now starting. I wasn’t sure if I could ever tie it back into orderly place.

Eleven
    Kate watched the hooded man as he stood in front of the brunette beauty. She slumped against the wall in front of him, her legs shaking, small breasts heaving. Her scream had broken through Kate’s mental block and caused her to look over, to see his fingers inside her, his mouth at her ear. Her face a masked vision of orgasmic pleasure.
    The image caused Kate to tighten, aroused despite herself, and Mr. Gunter groaned, feeling her body twitch. His hands on her breasts, squeezing and pinching them, moved downward, and Kate winced, shutting her eyes tightly. “No,” she said softly, too softly, and he laughed above her. “No!” She said it louder, pushing on his shoulder, and began to cry a bit in spite of herself, her body shaking and tears beginning the path down her face. She tightened her eyes, and willed herself to be strong.
    When she heard it, loud and clear despite the noisy room, she froze, body stiff and rigid. The sound of him unzipping his pants, the rustle of clothing as he pulled out his cock. She glanced down, whimpering slightly, his thin, stubby dick already hard, sticking out like a dagger from his body. He was leaning over, his hands at her opening, preparing it for his bareness, and then he was gone. She blinked her tear-filled eyes, and saw the hooded man.
    He had Mr. Gunter by the throat and was pressing him back, against a column at the entrance to the room. He whispered something in Mr. Gunter’s ear, something that made the old man’s eyes go wide in response. Kate sat up, pulling the sheer dress quickly down and standing, the room spinning briefly from the sudden movement. She sat, willing the room to still and searching for the strength to be able to go over, stop him, fix this. Whatever the big man was doing, he had to stop, had to leave Mr. Gunter alone. She couldn’t go back to Russia. Couldn’t go back to her family.
    The brunette, beautiful, her eyes still glazed in euphoric pleasure, her skin flushed, sat down next to her, taking her hand. “I tried to stop him,” she whispered. “When he saw your face...” There was a loud crack and they both looked up. The big man stood over Mr. Gunter, his hand bloody, Mr. Gunter limp on the floor. A redheaded lady appeared and spoke urgently with the hooded man. The brunette put her arm around Kate and gripped her tightly. “Don’t worry,” she whispered.
    They carried Mr. Gunter away. Kate saw