Sex In Stilettos

My heart was pounding faster than one of her high voltage hits, as I watched her emerge through the stage doors at the rear of the arena, flanked by a quartet of muscular bodyguards. A small troupe of autograph hunters called out in vain, from behind a protective cordon of rope and male muscle. True to her arrogant reputation, Tamella did not even acknowledge their presence.

Only moments earlier, she had stepped off stage, leaving an ecstatic audience baying for more. Perspiration glistened on her dusky skin. I was delighted she had not paused to mop her brow, much less change out of her stage outfit. This was the goddess of my wet dreams, in spike heeled thigh boots of shiny black rubber and a matching creation of studs and straps that was a cross between a bondage harness and a very revealing dress. The peak of her studded leather cap was pulled low and her eyes hid behind reflective wraparound shades.

A bodyguard pulled open the door and she slid into the back of the white stretch limo, where I waited like a virgin on a sacrificial altar. The only drawback of being her post-performance entertainment was that I had had to miss the show, in order to be ready and waiting for her. However, the smell of her fresh sweat alone made that considerable sacrifice worthwhile.

A mirrored screen separated us from the chauffeur and the dark glass of the windows was impenetrable from the outside, so we were completely alone. I felt her studying me intently, as she reclined in the seat opposite. In accordance with Mandy’s instructions, I was dressed to thrill, in stiletto heeled shoes and a tiny purple rubber skirt that stopped well short of the tops of my seamed black silk stockings. The upper half of my ensemble consisted of a lacy black bra and a waistcoat that matched my skirt. A diamond encrusted gold ring dangled from my navel. If the outfit looked half as sexy as it felt to wear, Tamella would surely eat me alive.

“Struck dumb or just shy?” she said finally, her voice soft and deliciously smoky.

“Awe-struck, actually,” I replied.

“Well, pull yourself together and fix me one of my specials,” she snapped. “Giving ten thousand fans an orgasm is thirsty work.”

A little test, I realized. Only a true Tamella devotee, who paid attention to the most trivial facts concerning her idol, would know about her “special” – a potent cocktail of rum, vodka, Tia Maria and tomato juice, with a hint of Bailey’s Irish cream. She called it a Turbo Lover.

The limousine bar was amply stocked. After I had carefully mixed and stirred the cocktail in a tall glass, I presented it to Tamella. She took a sip, then shook her head.

“Not quite finished. Needs a dash of hot cream.”

I knew at once what she meant and cursed myself for lacking the courage to have taken the initiative unprompted.

Sliding from the black leatherette covered seat, she knelt on the carpet and held the glass between my thighs. As hastily as I had ever exposed myself, I tugged my black silk panties down to my knees and tugged my cock from under my skirt. The closeness of my heroine ensured it was already fully erect. Gripping the hot shaft in my right fist, I pumped it aggressively for several minutes, until my hot, thick cream spat from the slit and into the blood red cocktail in Tamella’s glass. When the last drop had been spilled, she stirred it with a long finger, sucked it clean, then took a large sip.

“Perfect,” she smiled, licking her lips.

As she enjoyed her Turbo Lover, I busied myself with polishing every inch of her thigh boots with my tongue. Then, I moved upwards, to lap the sweat from her smoothly shaven armpits and the exposed upper halves of her large, firm round breasts. When I had finished, she pushed me away and raised her heels onto the seat. The leather strips that formed her skirt fell to either side. Her panties were made of interwoven narrow strips of studded black leather. Pink flesh peeked temptingly through the gaps. Sitting at her feet, I had a view to die for.

“Hey, slut, do you want to spend the night in my hotel suite?” she demanded.

“More than anything in the world,” I replied.

“Then you’d better start showing you’ve got more than just eyes for me,” she growled. “Otherwise, you may find yourself with a long walk home.”

Followed by an appointment in Mandy’s dungeon, she did not need to add. It was time to show her what I was made of. She raised her hips, as I reached for the waist strap of her panties and pulled them down over her rubber-sheathed legs. Her throbbing cock was as magnificent as the rest of her body. The area around it was shaven bare and a crimson heart tattooed in the place where her pubic curls should grow.

I did not waste time on words. There was only one way to praise such a gorgeous tube of girl meat. Tamella shuddered as I licked and kissed the shaven sac of her balls, then lovingly lashed her shaft with my tongue. Finally, I wrapped my mouth around it and effortlessly deep-throated the full, ten thick inches.

The responsive moans of the goddess, as I made passionate love to her with my mouth were sweet music to my ears. Urgently freeing her breasts from the straps that bound them, she squashed them together and raised them, so that she could tease her erect nipples with her tongue. With an artistry honed from years of experience, I coaxed her slowly to climax. A breathtaking deluge of hot, thick cream was the reward for my efforts. I gulped down every delicious drop, then licked her cock clean.

Afterwards, side by side on the warm leatherette seat, we kissed deeply and fondled each other’s cocks.

“Fix yourself a drink, darling,” she whispered. “It’s going to be a long night.”

I declined the offer, not wishing to wash the taste of her cum from my mouth.

Half an hour later, we were in her hotel suite. I had little time to appreciate the opulent surroundings, as we both had much more pressing bedroom matters in mind. By the time Tamella had stripped to her thigh boots, I was down to only my stockings and suspender belt and kneeling before her. She brushed my lips with her cock and smacked my face with the hot rod. But when I tried to take it in my mouth again, she pushed me away.

“Get on the bed,” she snapped. “I’m going to bring a little color to your cheeks.

A moment later, I was crouched on all fours on the dark red covers of the queen sized bed, my rear end eagerly presented for punishment. Tamella took several instruments from a drawer of her dressing table. She warmed me up with twelve stinging strokes of a long, thin cane, then stoked the fire to fever pitch with a blistering salvo from a thick leather tawse, which left me begging for mercy. Ignoring my cries, she took up a cat o’ nine tails and proceeded to vigorously flog me, until her right arm weakened from the exertions. By then, my buttocks and the backs of my thighs felt as if they were ablaze. Glancing over my shoulder at the full-length closet mirror, I saw the livid streaks branded on my tender flesh.

After the punishment came the pleasure. Crouching behind me, Tamella spread my throbbing cheeks with both hands and lashed at my anus with the tip of her tongue, causing me to shudder in ecstasy. When she burrowed up inside me, I almost climaxed.

“Such a sexy little hole!” she purred, probing me with a long finger. “It just begs for my cock.”

“Oh yes!” I gasped. “Please fuck me! Fill me up with your big, beautiful goddess cock!’

She probed and licked me for a few moments more, then slid her rock hard shaft into my moist, fuck hungry orifice. She buried it to the hilt in my tight tunnel and I squealed delightedly, pushing backwards to meet her deep thrusts. Her semen-swollen balls smacked mine, at the end of each stroke. It was difficult to believe that this was not just a wonderful dream that I would at any moment awaken from. Here was I -Tamella’s number one fan – receiving the juicy cock of my goddess in my asshole, my greatest ambition at last coming to fulfillment.

She rode me all the way to climax, shooting me full of her hot cream, my clenched muscles milking out every last drop. She remained inside me until her cock became flaccid. Then, rolling me onto my back, she wrapped her lips around my own swollen member. My passion was at such a peak that I climaxed almost immediately. Tamella swallowed my cum as greedily as I had gulped down hers.

For cumming so quickly, she decided I should be punished again. She could either report me to Mandy, or administer the punishment herself. The choice was mine. Naturally, I opted for the latter. To be punished by Tamella, no matter how severely, would be an honor.

I braced myself for another dose of whip or rod, but she had a much more fiendish method in mind. She handcuffed me to the bed, then ordered me to lift my legs as high as possible. She then used a pair of black silk scarves to bind my ankles to my wrists.

For the next thirty minutes, she proceeded to torture me with a feather duster, tickling the backs of my knees and under my breasts, where I was most sensitive, taking a sadistic delight in my tormented screams and breathless pleas for mercy. Frequently, she paused to feast on my cock and suck my nipples, but only long enough for me to brace myself for a further bout of tickling.

“Had enough?” she finally demanded.

“I can’t……. take any……. more!” I gasped, tears streaming down my cheeks and smearing my makeup. “Please whip me, cane me – anything but that again!”

She smiled. “I think you’ve been punished enough for now. If I untie you, will you promise to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes!” I answered. “I won’t displease you again, I swear!”

As soon as I was freed from my bondage, Tamella squatted over my face, offering her pink and puckering rear orifice to my tongue. I kissed, licked and sucked the sweet little hole, while she wrapped her cock in a fistful of my hair and masturbated. I would not have objected to a cream shampoo, but her semen was too precious to be wasted in that manner. When my tongue was aching from servicing her asshole, she moved downwards and squeezed her cock between my breasts. I raised my head, to savor the sight of her fucking my firm tits. Her climax splattered a pearl necklace around my throat, though I managed to catch a few globs on my outstretched tongue. I wiped up the remainder with my fingers and sucked them clean.

Later, she ordered a bottle of champagne from room service. While she drank from a glass, I licked trickles of champagne from her breasts. She then refilled her glass and dipped her cock in the sparkling golden liquid, for me to lick clean. Never had bubbly tasted more delicious.

Tamella’s insatiable lust was infectious and neither of us slept that night. I repeatedly took her cock in both ends, loving it more each time. The only cloud on the horizon was the approaching morning, when I would find myself dismissed, my goddess ready to move on to her next show and her next conquest.

At the end of our marathon bedroom session, we enjoyed a long, hot bath together, after which I lovingly dried and powdered her, then treated her to yet another of my much complimented blowjobs. If I lived to a hundred, I would never forget how delightful she tasted. It was just a pity it had to end so soon.

“You know, Justine, I have another three shows to play in this country,” she said afterwards, as we lay naked on the bed, locked in a tender embrace. “Then, I’m off to Europe. There’ll be plenty of other sexy girls to get acquainted with, but I think I’d like to have you in my entourage. Of course, if you have other commitments..”

“Tamella, for you, I would cancel the rest of my life!” I cried, eagerly.

She kissed me softly. “I may not be quite that demanding, darling.”