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She was sitting alone at the bar, drinking a rum and coke, dressed in a short leather skirt and leather vest that zipped up the front. He noticed her almost right away when He came in, her long red hair, like a flame, attracting His attention.

Walking up to the bar He saw the seat to her right was empty, so He slid onto the barstool and ordered a shot of Ochos Anos, ignoring her completely. She, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice Him. It wasn't just His good looks, or the way He was dressed, in tight-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, or His aftershave (is that Aqua di Gio? she thought), it was something subtle but pronounced at the same time...a certain aura of strength and masculinity. He exuded sex somehow.

Into the silence that lay between T/them a certain tension began to grow. She felt pulled toward Him, had to stop herself from leaning closer, racked her brain for something to say. "Excuse me. Could You please slide that ashtray over here?" He glanced at her and, without a word, slid the ashtray closer. "Thank you," she said, trying to get a response from Him. He looked at her more fully and said, "You're welcome." Then He smiled. She almost fell off her stool. His already handsome face transformed into something between an angel and a devil. An angel that promised the pleasures of paradise and a devil that could take her into the deepest, darkest excesses of her imagination. She had to look away or be consumed.

Fumbling with her purse she found her cigarettes and set them on the bar top. She found her lighter, but then inspiration struck and she let it fall to the bottom of her purse. It only took a few seconds of continued "searching" before He politely asked, "Do you need a light?" Looking up at Him, bravely looking into the deep pools of His eyes, she answered Him, "Yes, I do, thank You," and took a cigarette from her pack. He lit her cigarette, lit one of His own, tossed back the shot He'd ordered, and turned His gaze away from her, casually checking out the rest of the bar.

While He looked around, her attention focused inward. She wanted Him. She'd never felt such an immediate and overwhelming attraction like this before. How to get closer to Him? Oh my god, she thought, what if He's here to meet someone else? Just the idea of that caused a pang of something close to anguish. What was wrong with her? She needed to touch Him. Leaving her still lit cigarette in the ashtray, and her only half-finished drink on the bar, indicating (she hoped) that she'd be back, she slid off her barstool next to Him. He was facing forward again and she saw Him glance at her out of the corner of His eye, a slight smile on His face, but He didn't move back or lean away. She wanted to let her breast "accidentally" brush His arm, but at the last second couldn't bring herself to do it. Instinctively she knew He was a Gentleman with class and finesse, a Man who would not be impressed by such a crude and blatant gesture. Instead she simply turned away and headed for the ladies' room. She would have been gratified to know that He carefully checked her out from head to toe and back again as she walked away.

After checking her makeup and running a quick comb through her hair, she returned to her stool, glad to see He hadn't left or moved away. Her cigarette had burned out so she reached for her pack and withdrew another one. Almost before she had it to her lips He was there with His lighter. "Thank you," she said, the words sounding woefully inadequate to her ears. "Why don't you keep it," He said, handing it to her. Surprised, she nonetheless took it and then, gathering her courage, held out her hand and said, "My name is Yvette, by the way." He looked briefly at her hand and then into her eyes, a slight smile crossing His face, and she thought, oh my god, He knows. He knows what I'm feeling. He took her hand, gently but firmly, and said, "My name is Beast. Nice to meet you, Yvette." When He said His name something went through her, like a jolt, like a rush of liquid heat, exploding just beneath her belly button and spreading outward. She prayed to god He couldn't see her blushing in the dim light as warmth suffused her face.

She realized He was still holding her hand, letting it rest in His upturned palm, and she gently, against her inclination, withdrew it. He smiled again, a genuine warm smile, and made a casual comment about something of current interest. He was actually a very amusing and entertaining conversationalist, never at a loss for words, and she lost track of the time as T/they sat there talking, drinking, smoking. She had no idea He was weaving a web around her, drawing her into Him, seducing her without even touching her.

"Last call," said the bartender, breaking through the cocoon of her complacency. Startled, she looked at her watch, "Oh my goodness!" she said. "I have to go!" Her first and instinctive reaction immediately counteracted by her desire to stay. What to do? If she left now she might never see Him again. Inspiration struck again. "Thank goodness I only have a few blocks to walk," she said, and picked up her purse. "Would you like Me to walk you home?" He said. "It's pretty late for you to be walking by yourself." His words were polite and might be taken at face value by the casual listener, but she felt something more behind them. Excitement and, oddly, a little fear coursed through her. She looked searchingly into His eyes but He wore a mask of innocence, the fire behind His eyes temporarily banked and hidden from her view.

T/they left the bar together, He held the door for her, walked on the street side of the sidewalk, made small talk as they headed toward her house, and put her at ease, all the while thinking ahead and planning His next move.

T/they were walking by an alley when He suddenly grabbed her, throwing an arm around her waist, slapping a hand over her mouth and dragging her into the darkness, pushing her up against the wall and pressing the entire length of His hard body up against her soft one, His hips grinding into hers, one hand coming up to grab her neck, the other grabbing her breast, squeezing hard. She cried out in surprise but there was an underlying quality of excitement and arousal in her tone that told Him exactly how she would react to being "" by Him. She wanted it, wanted Him, her behavior the entire night told Him that more clearly than anything she might have said or not said.

Thrusting His hips up and against her, once, twice, three times, like He was fucking her through her clothes, He said roughly, "Is this what you want? You want this hard cock? Is your cunt wet just thinking about it?!" She shook her head as best she could with His fingers wrapped so tightly around her throat. "No! Don't! Please!" she cried, and moaned with desire, her body filled with a raging lust she couldn't hide from Him. He took His hand from her breast and grabbed the hem of her skirt, pulling it up around her hips, grabbing her panties and yanking them down. Using His feet to spread her legs apart He pushed His hand between her legs, felt the wetness almost dripping from her hot cunt, shoved two fingers in her pussy. "What a hot little slut you are," He said with an evil chuckle, and started unbuckling His belt. She struggled in His arms but it was more instinct than anything else, her heavy breathing and the look in her eyes telling Him just how turned on she was.

He got His pants undone and pushed them down around His hips, grabbed His hot hard cock in His hand and pushed it up against her wet swollen lips, pushed the head inside, thrust his cock into her, heard her moan of pleasure and surrender. Pumping His cock in and out of her, fucking her, her, up against the wall, He pounded away, taking her as she pushed ineffectively and only half-heartedly against His strong and immovable chest.

He felt the change in her as desire and lust took over, as her movements and breathing fell into sync with His. "Make Me cum, you bitch, you slut. Make Me cum from you," He breathed heavily into her neck. "Oh my god, no," she said, panting heavily, "You're gonna make me cum. Please don't make me cum while You're me. Please!" He only laughed and fucked her harder. "Cum with Me, you bitch, cum while I you." She almost wept with desire and shame. "I'm gonna cum," she said, "I can't help it...oh god, yes, here it comes..." and He thrust hard into her, feeling her pussy spasm around Him as His own orgasm hit Him hard, His cock pulsing as He came into her, shooting His load deep inside her...a groan of pure animal lust escaping Him.

When it was over He slowly pulled out, breathing hard, releasing His grip on her neck. Reaching for her panties He pulled them back up, pulled her skirt down, pushed away from her and quickly pulled His own pants back up, fastening them and rebuckling His belt as she leaned against the wall, spent and weak. Wrapping His fingers in her hair He pulled her roughly against Him, shoving His tongue into her mouth, kissing her hard and passionately, feeling her respond to Him, kissing Him back.

"You liked that, didn't you?" He asked. "Admit it!"
"Yes!" she replied, "I did. I couldn't help it."
"Good," He said, giving a gentle tug to her long red wig. "Now let Me finish walking you home, cypress. you never know what can happen out here, alone, this late at night..."

And T/they left the alley together, just another couple walking down the street...

* disclaimer - it should be obvious to ALT that this was not a real , it was a SCENE between cypress and her beloved BeastMaster

i'm happy, and i'm inspired...thanks to my beloved Beast *kiss*

mich

mich