La Mal Fille Bien Foutré

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Well, Evelyn is a professional dancer, you know, and she has a fabulous body. Just perfect, and because of that, and her model looks, Michael has tended to set his sexier pieces on her. You can be quite exposed up there on stage in those leotards, especially the flesh colored ones that are intended to give a nude look. But Evie is definitely a bit of an exhibitionist — she’s proud of her body, and I know she loves doing that kind of dancing. Something is set alight in her by the audience’s delighted attention. She’s admitted to me it turns her on, and knowing that turns me on too. I’m not the jealous type, not at all, even though she’s dancing quite intimately with her male partners, most with pretty damn hot bods too. Dancing, really, I think when you get right down to the nub of it, is sex. Evie says, actually, that it can be better than sex, but I think that is because its movement goes beyond the act, it has greater freedom of expression and emotion. It can awaken a prelapsarian sensuality that makes us love the body, love vitality, love life. Anyway, I guess we’re pretty well matched because while she’s the exhibitionist I’m the thrilled voyeur. Lithe female bodies generally make me want to fall down and worship. Evie’s beauty can rip wide the surface of the world and let the divine blaze in. Not only am I her acolyte, I want to evangelize for her, bring her more offerings of praise. Which might help explain what happened at the closing night gala for Carmina Burana. ..

First of all it was a great performance. Evie danced the “roasting swan” which in that section had her mostly carried aloft and passed between four male dancers, eight hands turning, turning her body as if on a spit. She returned in the “Court of Love” third section to be the girl in the red shift, standing like a rosebud, face radiant, driving the boys mad “oh, oh, oh… burning all over for the love of a new girl…” It’s a perfect subject for dance, anacreontic songs discovered in a ancient monastery, a marvelous score by Orff, a medieval Wheel of Fortune theme; the dancing melds the elements into a perfect blend of the pagan and the sacred. It’s intoxicating! Everyone left the theater in a wonderful lusty mood

Afterwards, there was a party at the home of one of our very wealthy benefactors — a great big stone Tudor mansion out in the Hamptons. Very swank, lots of tuxes and glam party dresses. Evelyn looked her usual drop-dead gorgeous wearing a little black dress, very short and swishy, low cut in front and the back cut down to the small of her beautiful back. Well, we circulated for awhile and did our bit to schmooze the donors. Then we ran into Matthew who said, “Hey, there’s a billiard room upstairs — want to check it out?”

So Evie and I followed him and found about half a dozen guys. Looked like a good place to hang out — someone had liberated a couple bottles of Scotch from the wet bar in the corner and people were taking turns playing pool. After awhile Evie and I had a chance to play each other, so we did, but we’re not very good, and it seemed like it was taking us forever to pocket all the balls. I glanced around at one point and I don’t think the guys were caring very much — in fact, they all seemed pleasantly distracted from their conversations, whenever Evie played a shot. You know, bending over the cue to line up a shot. She was quite an eyeful with all those opportunities to peek down her décolletage, or to see that skirt ride up her thighs. I could see she knew it too. I caught her eye at one point as she sprawled over a shot — her eyes twinkled and she gave an impish look back over her shoulder at some guys who were directly behind her, and laughed.

Now I knew she had this fantasy, she once told me, of being naked in a roomful of very well-dressed men, and driving them wild, and it suddenly struck me that this was it. This was that opportunity! So, I whispered in her ear “I’m remembering your particular fantasy… feeling frisky tonight?” and she gave me a very devilish eye flash and murmured “Hmmm…I think I could get lucky tonight!” We exchanged a couple of challenging looks which told me she was up to the dare. So I stepped back to chalk up my cue and very casually said out loud to the whole room, “Evelyn, you could make it much more interesting for all of us here if you just stepped out of that dress!”

Well, she didn’t miss a beat. She just beamed one of her curtain-call smiles like this was a tremendous compliment (which of course it was) and said, “Why not?” and coquettishly looking around added “If no one objects?” The guys all grinned and gestured the floor was hers. So she turned directly to face the ones on her side of the room, and stepped up, as if to a mark, got this look of mischief on her face, and delicately reached a hand up to one dress strap and dropped it off her shoulder. Then reached her other hand across and dropped the other shoulder strap, brought her hands together shrugging her shoulders inward, and just let that dress fall down around her ankles. Urfa Escort

She had on the prettiest little black silk underwear, French-cut tap pants that just revealed the taut under-curve of her buttocks, just where they meet the thigh, and a lacy demi-cup push-up bra with a tiny blue butterfly clasp in front. The eyebrows on all those guys rose about as high as they could go and they broke out into this spontaneous cheer and applause. She made a reverence, pirouetted back to the table on demi-point, and made a pretty little arabesque to line up her shot and stroked it with real flair with out much particular care scattering quite a few balls. I just grinned.

Well, someone came up and set a fresh drink down besides her like an offering, and another voice suggested “Better close that door….” Which someone thoughtfully did. Evie moved confidently around the table taking her shots, and striking delightful poses as she waited mine — all very nonchalant, very comfortable. She had put the room under a spell and after a minute of pretty incredulous looks from the guys they just leaned back and openly admired her.

After a few more turns around the table, she turned again towards her audience, half-sat leaning back on the edge of the pool table and gave them the boldest look — practically a challenge. Well, Matthew knew. He was an ex- of hers, about 5 years back, still best of friends. She probably had told him about her fantasy too. He just walked forward, paused in front of her, and locked eyes with her. After a moment hers softened just a bit, a yes, and he reached forward and undid her clasp, and removed her bra. She reached a hand up and lifted the hair off her shoulders giving a bit of a head toss, and her breast bounced ever so slightly. She gave Matthew a big smile, like gratitude, then kissed him and turned back to the table for her next shot.

She was marvelous. She was definitely heating up the room, but seemed as cool as a cucumber, pacing easily around the table, striking the most delectable poses as she waited her turn — not cheese-cakey, but somehow calculated with her keen dancer’s sense of line to accentuate one fine feature of hers or another — the curve of her hip when standing on one foot, the high lift in her chest, as she intently chalked the cue.

It wasn’t long before she missed a shot, but remained leaning forward, palms down on the edge of the pool table, briefly miming a pout, then looking back over her shoulder at one of the guys, arching an eyebrow. His attention caught, she rolled her eyes suggestively down to her shoulder, and he took the meaning. He stepped up behind her, then with two fingers closed together lightly traced the furrow of her spine downward from the nape of her neck to the top of her panties. As his fingers moved down she lifted her chin, put more arch into her back, slightly widened her stance, and relevéed into demi-point. The guy delicately took hold of her panties at each hip and began to slowly roll them down. He had to give them a gently tug at the widest part of her bottom, but soon enough they too dropped to the floor, and there she was, naked as the day she was born.

Someone in the room gave out a long “Oh Baby!” and Evie gave a little laugh and said “Well boys, I trust you are finding things a little more interesting!” The guy next to her nodded assent and reached to fondle her bottom, but she deftly stepped aside and gave his hand a little slap. “Now you be patient — I have a game to finish!”

I loved how she had the whole room in thrall. She was in total control even though she was the one without a stitch on amongst eight men in their penguin suits. We continued to play out our game with her moving just as naturally and free and proud as a cat. Dancers are so comfortable in their own skin. And she truly is a marvel to behold — slender and long-legged, a firm round ass, tiny waist. Her breasts are perfect I think, symmetrical and round, smallish, but larger than most dancers I’d say — but not so large as to annoy, as they can in dance. Just enough weight to see them flutter enchantingly when she dances, if you choose to notice. Her aureoles are large and brown, perfectly round, and her nipples — pert little tips, very enticing. I never tire of looking at her — I think divinity dwells in the female form — but as perfect as her body is, it’s her face that makes me almost die every time I look at her. With that swept jaw line, small, straight nose, high cheekbones, soft full lips, big eyes, raven hair…. She’s definitely my goddess. It was clear that this was a goddess moment for the guys in that room too. An ecstatic vision of beauty. She was their enchantress… A Circe.

It seemed as if she were deliberately choosing shots that made her reach further over the table, the better to dangle her breasts, and show her ass to these guys. Several times she half-sprawled on a corner of the table, with one knee lifted on the edge, her sex clearly revealed. Everybody was in seventh Urfa Escort Bayan heaven — the guys were just all grins and rapturous smiles, relishing the opportunity to gaze openly at a beautiful naked female form. I think they appreciated too Evelyn’s naturalness and comfort in the situation — indeed her very evident enjoyment of their admiring looks. I could tell she was thrilled with the opportunity to act out her fantasy. She was practically prancing in front of all these guys and the contrast between her nakedness and the tuxedoed guys was creating a real charge.

I tried to drag the game out, but eventually pocketed the eight ball. “Rack ’em up again?” I asked her, and she turned with her arms crossed under her breasts and surveyed her audience. “Hmm…” she said. “Noooo, I have a different game of eight ball in mind. I think it’s time for one of these gentlemen to take a cue.” And with that she leaned back against the table, raised a leg in passé position and began touching herself between the legs.

As is the fashion these days, she kept her pussy carefully shaved except for a thin vertical line over her pudenda. With the fingers of both hands she carefully opened her labial flower and then stirred with one finger the pink flesh around her clit. One gentleman did take the cue and stepped forward, knelt before Eve, and gently planted a kiss on her pussy. Soon he was energetically engaged in cunnilingus and Evie tilted her head back and moaned with pleasure. After a bit, he grabbed her hips and rotated her around so that now her ass was facing out. He spread her cheeks and burrowed his face in giving her asshole a delicate tongue-licking.

After a minute he stood up, pulled her hips outward some more. Evie cooperated fully, putting a fine arch into her back, and leaning over the table onto her elbows. She regarded the room over her shoulder and cracked with a grin “I hope you all have a good view. You’re a great audience! I love you!” she finished with a laugh. She opened her stance some more and swayed her ass back and forth seductively while she waited for the guy to undo his trousers and haul out his cock. It sprang forth, hard and upward-arched, ready for action. Slowly he guided it into her. She was definitely wet and ready for him because he was able to drive it in up to the hilt in one slow smooth motion. Both gave a groan of pleasure as his groin pressed hard against her ass.

He started to work it, building up to a nice audible slap against her ass, each jolt sending a nice flutter through her cheeks, and giving a beautiful bounce to her breasts. It was good hard fucking at its best, and Evie took it wonderfully, rolling her ass, tossing her hair, and pushing back into him. It was like she was lap dancing with him the way it should be.

It wasn’t long before this guy exploded into her and clenched her fast. When he finally released her she turned around and gave him a nice long open-mouth kiss. Then singling out another guy with her eyes and a beckoning finger, she said. “Now how do youuuu want me?” He said, “Just like you’ve done.” She smiled, turned around again, leaned over the table on her forearms, spread her legs, and said “You mean second position ecarté again?” Someone cried out “Hey baby, are you going to dance with us all?” and Evie responded “Abso-fuckin-lutely! Then adding with a wink “By the way, I’m Evelyn, and I will be serving you tonight!

Well, guy number two took her the same way, and rocked her hard, while the other guys closed around in a semi-circle to watch. At one point she regarded them, and quipped through some little gasps “I trust you boys are enjoying the show!” Big nods. I tell you, everybody was happy there. Nothing like seeing a beautiful woman offering herself up to everyone’s pleasure. It was clear to all in the room that we were privileged to be creating collectively one unique incredibly intense sexual drama; one that would be seared indelibly into our brains; something that one might think relegated to the realms of wild imagination, but there, that night, the dream was real.

After number two climaxed in her, Evie sent him off like the first with a grateful kiss, then picked out a third guy and said, “Okay Romeo. I’m your Juliet.” He took her frontally, her long legs locked firmly around him as he pinned and hammered her against the table. The fourth she dragged onto the table, laid him back, and straddled him. Again, this was a beautiful fucking as she rode his pole up and down, her cheeks spreading wonderfully across his groin each time she came down hard, while he fondled her swaying breasts. Again that lovely arch of her back, the forward tilt of her pelvis, the high lift in her chest, and always her infectious smile broken by moans of pleasure. In the middle of this she looked coyly around and said, “How am I doing boys?” And we all acclaimed our approval and cheered them on. “Yeah, baby!” “Bravo! Bravo!”

When number four was spent she gave him a send-off kiss and Escort Urfa looked around for her next partner. Matthew stepped forward and said “How about a pas de trois?” and she wagged a finger knowingly at him, but nodded her willingness. Matthew said “Okay Dave come help me with this Medora…” which got a laugh from Evelyn. The two guys leapt lightly onto the pool table and positioned Evie, kneeling between them, Matthew in front, Dave behind, and proceeded to rock her back and forth on an axis of cock, one in her mouth, one arcing into her vagina. She sucked Matthew’s cock with great enthusiasm while Dave spread his hands across her hips to take command of her rocking. It was a master performance as both guys came almost simultaneously.

I, of course, had to join in on this scene at some point. After giving Matthew and Dave their thank-you kisses, sitting on the edge of the table, Evie saw that I, tool out, was ready to claim the next dance, and gave me an eye flash. I stepped up to my mark, so to speak, offered my hand to help her off the table, then twirled her around to assume her familiar position bent over the edge. Only, as I saw that delightful, familiar ass presented to me I had another thought.

Evie was an anal virgin. In the past we had talked about it, she thought she was interested in the idea as an experimentation, but she was scared, thought that with all her dance training, the particularly toning of the pelvic girdle involved in dancing turned out, she thought she might be too tight. She always said I would have to get her really drunk first to relax her enough. Somehow, that had never happened; we liked having a few drinks but neither of us enjoyed getting sloppy drunk.

But I also had a private theory about attempting her backdoor. Dancers are so in touch with their own bodies, so conscious of their weight and so aware of what goes in and out of their digestive tract that the idea of their anus being a receptacle violates the strict discipline they must adhere to. Not only that, the narcissism which is so common in dancers assumes unconsciously the object role in the ritual of scopophilia. Their genitals become a natural sacrament for others, a gift of life.

That night Evie was being particularly generous in that gift, but always she was the priestess, receiving devotion, dispensing the divine, touching sublimity with half-lidded eyes commanding hushed focus one moment on the soft moans, pelvic beat and lubricious accompaniment of the love-making, the next moment reasserting control by being talkative, witty, playful. My thought was subversive however. If I opened up an unexpected route to the divine, she might experience some of the surrender of the devotee. She might, on this unknown path, suddenly be caught unprepared and be overwhelmed by the divine.

I began by using the tip of my cock to spread wetness from her dripping pussy to the pretty little pucker of her asshole. “Such a bad girl you are” I mocked as I started to press and spread the wetness inward with my forefinger. “You think you can invite all these cocks to the party, Beauty, and not pay for it? There still is one thing reserved for me!” Regarding me over her shoulder, I saw a look of surprise come into her eyes as she perceived my intent. “Bad Carrabosse!” she chided.

But tonight I sensed she was intoxicated enough with this incredible encore performance in the billiard room, still perhaps a bit suffused with her role as the spitted swan. I grinned at her sternly and I saw her gather her pluck. “Okay, prick me with thy prick. I’m your Beauty!” and proceeded to grab her buttocks with both hands and spread them wide.

I took my time as she was, as I expected, quite tight. I gradually introduced two fingers into her as far they could go and after awhile I could feel her sphincter starting to relax. The guys around us appeared quite rapt with the spectacle as I began to finger fuck her ass, and then after this preparatory work was done, slowly guide the tip of my cock into her. Soon enough I had her fully impaled on my spear as the final thrust brought a real moan from her lips. One of the guys helpfully handed her another scotch. This she accepted graciously even as I started to move more vigorously in her. She gave our circle of admirers another one of her patented sly looks and raised her glass in a toast. “Damn, I may be bad, but I think I’m a very lucky girl tonight! You gentlemen really know how to give a gal a rockin’ time!”

I loved her spirit but I also wanted her total attention to what was going on in her ass. I quickly worked up to a steady hard-driving tempo which really rocked her forward on each thrust and began to elicit little staccato gasps from her throat. That was what I wanted to hear, I notched it up another level and her ass began bouncing up with each thrust so that her weight came nearly off the tips of her toes. I saw her hands grip the edge of the table tighter and the moans were getting more urgent. Her buttocks, ears, and chest reddened with a bright sexual flush and her legs began to quiver uncontrollably. My piston strokes quickened and when she settled her weight on her forearms over the table I grabbed her hips and lifted her weight entirely off her feet pulling her ass back to meet each thrust.

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