Fateful Desire

Fateful Desire

Music spilled from the night club, flowing over the street, adding to the rhythmic energy that was in the air, enticing to those that were still standing in line. Inside the club, throngs of people mingled, danced, and dazzled, each hoping for a better out come to the evening than what was likely. Inside, the air was thick with smoke, talk, and the beat of the newest techno dance remix, bodies pressed closer together than what would have been acceptable in any other situation.

The humid air had long ago invaded the building, but it was not bothersome to most, instead adding to the sexual desire that many of them felt. Women were looked at as sexual temptresses, and the men as would-be predators that were actually quite clueless. Those looking for a one-night stand were likely to find it here, while those looking for more, were destined to fail yet again.

Phil had heard of the club from the friend of a friend, as did any those who were not one of the regular clientele, and he was surprised to find that it was everything that he had heard. The party atmosphere, the beautiful people, the best music, and prices that were not to be believed. Phil came here expecting to find just another flashy bar, but had instead found a hot spot hidden in a decadent area of town.

Nursing his drink, wading through the turmoil of warm bodies, Phil maneuvered his way towards a slim red haired woman that he had been watching for the past half hour. She was tall, very likely equal to his six foot frame, with a slim, athletic body that hinted at hours spent in the gym. Her eyes were a dazzling blue that had seemed to shimmer, even from the other side of the club, and they appeared to dance with a light all of their own.

Phil had watched her move about the club, checking over men and women, chuckling to himself as he thought of how she looked like a shark, circling a party of swimmers, in search of the best catch. Some of those that she had scoped out had returned the examination, only to be rebuffed by her, as if they did not meet her standards. She was obviously very choosy when it came to finding a partner, and it made Phil want her even more, his mind already picturing her long, red hair laying across his lap, as her head bobbed up and down on his cock.

Taking advantage of a momentary part in the crowd, Phil edged ever closer to her, trying to appear as if he was just mingling with the crowd, instead of making a bee-line for her. Her movements were graceful and almost painfully slow, like a tiger stalking through the jungle, and Phil felt his longing intensify.

Suddenly, as if guided by a higher power, the crowd parted just enough to open a space between Phil and the red headed woman, and her eyes immediately locked with his. Phil's heart nearly skipped a beat as he felt himself fall into her eyes, a strange, almost palatable energy seeming to sweep over him as she smiled, and Phil knew that he had made it past her first test.

In the blink of an eye, she was there, standing before him, smiling with glistening red lips that thinly covered gleaming teeth, her smile like a shining star in the darkness.

"Hi," said Phil, nonchalantly, nodding.

His mind, like his heart, was racing with desire, and he fought to give off a calm appearance, terrified of becoming tongue-tied. It had been a long time since any woman had made Phil feel this way, like a burgeoning virgin, and he wanted very much to laugh at himself.

"Hello," she said, her voice sounding like some soul shattering ballad, reaching to the very essence that he was. "I'm Cassandra."

"Phil."

"New to the club, Phil?" she asked, her smile turning seductive.

A year of psyche, before switching over to business, had taught Phil a few things, and he knew that her using his name was a good sign. A positive indication that she was interested, and a bolster to his fleeting ego, the question helped him to shake off the fledgling fear of failure.

"Heard about the place at a board meeting," he offered, almost flippantly. "Thought I'd check it out, see if it was every thing that I heard it was."

"Have you liked what you've found?" asked Cassandra, her eyes sparkling a solid blue despite the multi-colored lights playing about the room.

"I like at least one thing I've seen here," replied Phil, instantly berating himself for the cheap come-on line.

"I'm wet," said Cassandra, her voice barely audible over the thumping music.

If Phil had been drinking at that moment, he was certain he would have sprayed it out of his mouth, not believing what he thought he had just heard this gorgeous creature say. Instead, he leaned forward, the dweebish inner man taking over, and said "excuse me?"

"I bet," she said, louder than before.

She's fucking with me, thought Phil, feeling a brief flash of anger. That anger was quickly consumed by the flames of desire as Phil saw the coy smile spread across her face.

How could he have possibly thought that this beautiful, voluptuous woman would be playing mind games with him? There was no doubt that she could have anyone, anyone, that she wanted, and the fact that she was talking to him was more than a sign that she was interested.

She fucking wants me! Phil thought. She wants to fuck me! Me she wants to fuck! Phil liked playing little word games in his mind, probably from all of the Doctor Seuss books his mom read to him as a child, and it served to distract him in those important moments; usually when he wanted to keep himself from climaxing too soon.

"I was about to go out for a bite," said Cassandra, breaking Phil's reflection on twisting his thoughts around. "Would you like to join me?"

Oh, God, would I, he thought, before saying, "sure."

Cassandra smiled that drop dead smile of hers, then turned and moved through the crowd, the people seeming to move out of her way in some sort of unacknowledged reverence. Phil could swear that it was almost as if she were floating across the floor, her feet seeming to glide over the surface with barely touching ground, and he wondered if she was that limber in bed.

Phil kept casting quick looks at her ass, soft round tear-drops poured into faded jeans, only slightly hesitant about her giving a backwards glance to catch him admiring her. The black tank-top that she wore was mostly covered by her cascading hair, and Phil imagined what it would be like to see that hair flipping around as she rode him, grinding into him with passion.

Reaching the rear door, Cassandra pushed through it, ignoring the two muscular men standing on either side of it, and Phil followed. He glanced quickly at the two men, wondering why he hadn't noticed them before, then dismissed the thought as he focused on what was to come.

The door exited to a secluded parking lot on the back side of the block, apparently where the employees parked, and Phil was impressed to see that all of the vehicles were rather expensive ones. Beamers, Porsches, Caddies, and even a Rolls Royce, lined the lot, all of them brightly illuminated in the wash of high-intensity security lights that left no darkness pooling around any of the vehicles.

"I have a passion for the classics," commented Cassandra, leading him towards a fully restored Bentley. The car was a gleaming black, with tinted windows that allowed no view of the inside, and virtually shined in the abundant light.

Must be the security lights, thought Phil, noticing how pale Cassandra's skin seemed now that they were out of the dimness of the club. She looks as white as sheet.

Phil knew that some red heads did not tan easily, or so he had heard some where, but he doubted that he'd be able to find one as pale as Cassandra now looked. For some reason, it aroused him further, giving her a youthful attribute that kindled some dark desire within him.

A tall black man, looking as muscular as the men at the club door, stepped out of the Bentley as they approached, and opened the rear door for them. The dark blue uniform of a chauffeur driver seemed almost out of place on the man, his build suggesting that he should be suited up as one of the Jets, and Phil briefly thought he must also be a body guard.

And what a body to guard, he chided, his desire once again raging on him as if driven by some force greater than his own needs. He had had beautiful women before, though none near equal to Cassandra, and had longed after them with a near unbridled passion, but he had never felt a lusting this strong; so strong to be almost an obsession.

Phil slipped into the rear of the Bentley, after Cassandra, marveling at the spacious, leather interior. There was plenty of room to maneuver around in the rear of the vehicle, a tinted window separating them from the hulking driver, and Phil's mind was filled with images of unbridled sex taking place in the back of the Bentley.

Cassandra was on him as the car started up, her kiss strong upon his lips, and her tongue probing, nearly to the back of Phil's throat. He could feel her nipples, hard, pressing against him, and his slacks were suddenly too tight, his hands sliding over her body in response.

Breaking away from Phil, though he tried to hold her tight, Cassandra leaned back and pulled her tank top off, her breasts solid and perfect before him. Phil took them in his hands and caressed them, kissing them gently before running his tongue over her dark brown nipples.

Moaning softly, encouraging him to continue, Cassandra slid her hands to his belt and unbuckled it, then undid his pants to slide a hand beneath his boxers. Cassandra began kissing on his neck, gently pushing him back as she slowly worked her way down his chest, gingerly biting at his own nipples before continuing down towards his lap.

Phil let out a moan of pleasure as her mouth slid onto his cock, her tongue twirling around his shaft like no other woman had ever done to him, and he was overcome with ecstasy. Running his hands through her thick hair, Phil looked down at her bobbing head, the vision matching, exactly, the one that he had conjured up just a short time ago.

Letting out a short yelp, Phil tensed up as he felt a sudden burning sensation on his groin, but the pain was replaced with a feeling of pleasure so intense that he climaxed immediately, Cassandra continuing to suckle long after he had expended himself.

A sense of bliss settled over Phil, his mind barely able to wonder how he was able to stay erect so long after ejaculation, a distant nagging voice at the back of his mind screaming at him that something wrong. The pleasure beat down any thought that his mind tried to form, Phil gasping as he climaxed a second time, his entire body tingling as Cassandra continued drinking from him.

Feeling light headed and weak, white spots dancing before his eyes, Phil was finally beginning to realize that something was wrong. Struggling to raise his hands, he tried to pry Cassandra's head from his lap, but he found that had almost no strength.

"Wa-wa-it," he managed to gasp, his mind reeling, the top of Cassandra's head floating in and out of focus.

Cassandra finally lifted her mouth from his cock, her eyes no longer sparkling, but glowing. She smiled up at him, her once brilliant teeth now smeared red, and seeming longer than his fuzzy mind could recall.

"What's wrong?" asked Cassandra, her voice sounding…sated? "I said I was going to get a bite."

Smiling seductively, showing off incisors that were unnaturally long, Cassandra slid her mouth back onto him, the burning pleasure once more gripping him firmly.

Phil screamed out in pleasure as he climaxed a third time, the cry turning into a rattle that caught in his throat as he felt the blackness overcome the ecstasy.