Tracy's Limo Ride

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Tracy's Limo Ride

Tracy saw the note and the rose propped up against it the second she got home. She knelt down to pick them up, fascinated. She opened the door, distracted now; she shoved her few groceries into the fridge and sat down on her bed, kicking off her shoes.

It read: "The limousine will pick you up at 6 p.m. Be wearing that sexy little black dress -- the way that only you can wear it."

She laughed, turning the beautifully engraved card over and over, sniffing the rose as if for clues. Who would have done this? An old lover? A secret admirer? Finally she shrugged, and started pulling her clothes off. But then...

She sat back on the bed, wearing only her little black panties. She looked at the note again. "If I don't do this," she thought, "I'm always gonna regret it." She looked at the clock: 5:45 -- not much time. "I'm crazy!" she said out loud, but she ran for her closet, laughing, living in the moment, in the fantasy, pulling off her panties, searching nude through her clothes, finally pulling out that sexy little number.

It had spaghetti straps that barely (yes barely was the operative word) held up the low cut top. She didn't think that anyone could wear a bra under that clingy little bit of fabric; certainly she never did. She paused to look down at her body: nipples already hard on her sweet, adorable breasts. She paused to cup them now, lift them, squeeze them gently. Then she threw the dress on over her head.

It rode so high on her sexy thighs, that as she stood in front of the mirror, turning around to see how it molded itself to her 5'6" frame, she hesitated. Could she -- would she really do this? Wasn't this... dangerous!

God, she felt dangerous. Never felt so hot, so sexy, so desired and desirable. She pulled out her matching black spaghetti strap high heels, which made her look and feel so bare all the way from her soft smooth thighs down to her cute little toes, but which also accentuated the sleek line of her fantastic, sexy legs, making them absolutely to die for.

She ran outside, hardly stopping to shut and lock her door, laughing, giggling. There were her neighbors outside! Normal people on a Sunday afternoon: kids playing, daddies washing cars and mowing lawns. She felt more than saw everybody stop in their tracks to look and stare. She felt more than naked, but it wasn't out of total embarrassment that she flushed a deep red from her cheeks down to her breasts. Then, she stopped, dead. A limo had just pulled up. The door slowly opened as if by magic. And it was magic -- the fantasy beckoned to her -- waited for her to begin....

The door swung open the opposite way of most cars -- and this wasn't most cars! Long, sleek, jet black, and apparently cavernous inside. As she walked (make that strutted) toward her waiting carriage, the silence of the neighborhood was astounding. She wondered what they thought of her now. Maybe she had suddenly become a high-priced call girl? (Maybe I have -- that thought made her hesitate a moment.) Then she turned at the door, and looked straight into the eyes of John, her nearest neighbor. Not 30 feet away, he stood transfixed, no longer remembering the purpose of the running hose that he was pointing in the general direction of his soapy car.

She felt the need to be wicked. Why not? She was certainly dressed for the role. Since John had a clear view (and no one else -- she glanced around) she decided to give him a show. She stretched out her pretty left leg, barely bending it as she set her foot just inside the car. Then, instead of bending her head and ducking in, she squatted down, fully aware of her dress riding up even higher. There wasn't much higher to go -- she could already feel the deliciously cool air kissing her hot, wet lips. Now she set her butt at the edge of the seat, all the while aiming the space between her legs directly at John. As she lifted her left leg and pointed her toes directly at him, she knew that he was no longer meeting her eyes (she wondered if he ever could again!). Instead she felt his gaze travel up that long, perfectly shaped limb; all the way up to the pink slit that split her creamy thighs in two. She slowly, slowly bent her leg at the knee, making it even more beautiful, all the while moving it closer into the car; teasing him, making it clear that the view he was now enjoying was shortly going to be gone. Finally, all the way into the car, she sat there, still pointed out at him, legs slightly open, licking her lips. Then she blew him a kiss good-bye!

As if by magic again (okay, it was probably remote-controlled) the door closed at that moment. She lay back in what was more a luxurious sofa bed than a car seat, laughing. That's right -- she thought -- go and learn how to use that hose. Better yet, use it on your wife -- she'll wonder what got into you! She was aware of how high her dress had crept up, and didn't care -- until she noticed the driver turn his head slightly. She immediately sat up, and pulled the hem down as far as she could. All right, she realized, it's a little too late for decorum now; he had also seen her whole performance. But, instead of turning his head any further, he responded by closing the privacy screen. How nice of him to notice that I needed some privacy now, Tracy thought.

Now she looked around, really taking in her surroundings. She sat on a luxuriously soft sofa bed, complete with matching pillows. It was at least 6 feet long, and half as wide. There was a bar built into the side of the limo across from her, and she laughed to see that a bottle of champagne and a glass was waiting for her. She settled back on the pillows, noticing the silvered windows. She didn't care what showed now, so she hiked up her dress again, up to her waist, exposing her wet muff and pouting lips. She reached for the champagne, drank it, and spilled some as she was too stretched out. It dribbled onto the front of her dress. "Oops -- guess this needs washing," she said out loud. She lifted her body up and pulled the dress all the way off.

She told herself that since this was her fantasy, she might as well enjoy it. She could feel the gentle hum of the limo as it drove, and she felt that she would have plenty of time to throw her dress back on if she sensed it stopping. As she looked up at the silvered windows, she wondered what a sight she would be if they were transparent. Office workers, glancing out of their windows, seeing a beautiful view that would make them forget about their boring jobs for a while.

She sipped some more champagne; feeling deliciously wicked and wildly free. Now she let more of the bubbly liquid spill onto her chest. She even took her fingers, dipped them in the glass, and liberally applied champagne to her protruding nipples, making them tingle even more, jut out even more. She had never felt champagne drying on her pussy either, so she reached into the glass for more, and then gently brushed her wetted fingers over and then inside her gaping slit.

God! She knew that she had to get control of herself -- otherwise -- otherwise --

The doors suddenly flew open. She jumped, spilling champagne everywhere -- on her, in the limo. Her breathing stopped as she tried to grab for her dress, but then four muscular arms reached in for her. They grabbed her hair, her tits, her arms, her legs, her ass, her crotch, her feet. They didn't seem to care where they grabbed her, as long as they pulled her out of the car. She had only a glimpse of the interior of what may have been a parking garage, until they forced a blindfold over her eyes. She began to scream, then a voice, rough and coarse whispered in her ear -- "It would better for you if you didn't see us. It would be a lot better for you if you didn't scream."

The two men lifted her up now, helpless, naked between them. They were so strong! Her spaghetti-strapped feet never touched the ground; they dangled, and she resisted the impulse to kick her legs as she was whisked into an elevator. She couldn't stop gasping, weeping softly. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life! So now, her little fantasy had suddenly turned into a nightmare. She knew without question that she was going to be raped.

Tracy tried to remain quiet as the elevator quickly rose. She knew that she was helpless: the rough hands of the two men gripped her underarms, holding her immobile between them, brushing against the sides of her naked breasts. Finally, it stopped. God, she must be on the 50th floor at least! They carried her down a corridor; her feet still far from the ground, and then she felt herself go through an opening door.

They suddenly dropped her on her hands and knees, naked on what felt like a well-polished table. She gasped as they roughly molded her nude body into the position that they wanted: course hands high on her soft thighs pushed her butt high in the air, and then spread her pretty knees wide. They left, but she sensed that she was far from alone.

Hands began to lightly touch her, improving gently on her positioning. "Hold your head up, dear," she heard a male voice tell her. "So that we can see you." She knew what a spectacle she was: ass cheeks and pussy lips gaping open from behind, bare tits standing out proudly in front, nipples sore and hard. Then, one pair of hands lifted her little feet and started unbuckling her high heels. As she felt them sliding off, leaving her absolutely, totally naked, it was too much. Yes, she was already nude and helpless in front of all these strangers, but that last symbolic act told her that not even her clothing was under her control, much less her own body. She let out heartfelt, deep, wracking sobs.

She felt an arm around her shoulders. 'There, there, dear. Don't cry." A woman's voice! There were women here! She felt a ray of hope. Surely she would sympathize, help her.

"Please" she whispered. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be naked, please! I'm afraid; don't let them hurt me!" she gasped out between sobs.

The woman held her tighter. "I'll never let them hurt you -- that's why I'm here! No one is going to hurt you while I'm around!"

Tracy was confused. "But why? WHY?! Why are doing this to ME?!"

'Tracy," the woman sighed, "after this is over, hate us all if you want; hate me. But get through it anyway you can! Be a little actress; lose yourself in the fantasy. If you make it easier for them, you'll be out of here so much sooner. Just understand this:" she whispered close to her ear "Once, I was the girl on the table."

Tracy was still confused, but, as the woman released her arm from her bare shoulder, she relaxed somewhat, letting out a soft little sigh. The others in the room seemed to sense her change in attitude, her resignation to the inevitable. She heard them leaning back in their chairs, settling in for the show. She wondered how many were watching her, how may sets of eyes were taking her in, glorying in the sight of every curve and line of her naked body exposed for their viewing pleasure.

The door opened behind her, and somebody came in. By the shuffling, and another change in attitude, Tracy sensed that this was the leader, and that her real ordeal was just about to begin.

"I see that you're all here, and that you've already met our guest. But let me introduce her more formally. This is Tracy: 5'6" -- as he spoke she felt them all rise and begin to trace the curves and lines of her body with their fingers -- "long blonde hair" -- they began to play with her hair, hands dropping it over her breasts, then throwing it back over her naked shoulders for a better view -- "34" -- all the hands were on her breasts now, taking turns, running down from her underarms then circling around and pulling on her nipples -- God! -- she had never felt her tits feel this huge before, her nipples this hard and poky -- "24" -- the hands slid both down her back and her belly, some massaging her, running fingers down her spine, others taking turns to tickle and probe her sweet little belly button -- "34" -- now, they all moved down to her ass, her thighs, they helped each other: one or two of them pulled her cheeks apart while others felt her up and down her crack, poking at and playing with her puckered little hole. She felt her thighs pulled apart at the same time; they weren't rough, but they were insistent -- every inch of her totally naked form was theirs, and they wanted her to know it, feel it.

How many fingers were playing with her pussy? How many were circling her clit? Which ones were men, and which were women? God! She was so totally dripping wet, and so totally helpless, at their mercy. She shuddered. Why didn't they just let her come?? Why were they teasing her like this??? She was shocked at herself: that she actually wanted to come -- naked and helpless in front of a bunch of strangers. She tried telling herself that it was just a desire to get out of here, put on her clothes, and go home to cry, but it was more than that. She was losing herself in the fantasy. She was the naked girl on the table now, she was the one that they desired and had hand-selected for their games. Well -- damn it! -- let the fucking games begin!!

She sensed someone on the table behind her. It was as if her entire naked body had turned into a sensing mechanism. She knew by the way that the hairs surrounding her pussy lips were standing on end that there was a bare cock positioned not too far from her oozing, glistening pinkness.

"Now Tracy," said the voice of the leader behind her, "we all know that you're a very bright girl, and that you can follow instructions. So, I'm only going to explain this once, before we begin. I'm going to kneel behind you, and press" -- she felt it! -- "the head of my penis against your lips. Okay, from now on I'm not going to move -- it's going to be your tight little cunt, and your sweet naked ass that I want to feel, that I want to see, rocking and pressing against me and taking me deep inside you."

He didn't need to say any more. It was as if her outer lips were molding themselves to the shape of his cockhead, creating a cradle for him to rest. She couldn't stop her body from moving -- all she had to do was think about it, and she started slowly rocking. Tentatively, getting used to his feel, his length, his thickness, but gradually taking him deep inside. God! How she had wanted, needed a cock buried inside her. She kept rocking, wishing that she could rip the blindfold off, turn her head and look at him.

She felt as if she could smell him, smell the sex permeating the room. She knew that the watchers had undoubtedly also stripped, or at least pulled down their pants and hiked up their skirts. There were soft sounds and light moans, which made the atmosphere electric and charged with raw sex. "There's someone in front of you," the leader suddenly announced. God! So it was his cock that she smelled! She instinctively opened her mouth, causing a reaction and murmurs from the crowd -- "Look!" -- "She's ready!" -- "She wants it!" -- Did she ever!

The leader's voice was already choked with fucking as he spoke again, "As you rock forward -- don't lose me! -- take him into your mouth. As you rock backward, taking me back inside you, make a space for him between those lips up front, the way your sweet pussy lips are making a space for me in back."

She didn't need any further instructions. Slowly at first, she began introducing another hot long hard thick prick inside her. She took him in, an inch at a time, all the while keeping up the rocking, the fucking, until the next time that she rocked forward, he was deep-throating her, and she could feel his drawn-up hairy balls tickling her chin.

Fuck -- suck -- fuck -- suck. She lost herself -- threw herself -- into the delicious rhythm. Fuck -- suck. How she wanted to make these two cocks come for her, as she came for them. She felt both pricks growing so hard and huge; it was as if there were no limits. The walls of her cunt and the walls of her mouth easily expanded to accommodate their growth spurts.

Speaking of spurting -- she had to come - come with them. Faster and faster, fucking and sucking, she squeezed the cock behind her, feeling her sugar walls responding with a throbbing, vibrating intensity that she had never felt before. And each time that she took the huge prick in front into her mouth, he went farther down her throat as she tongued him his entire length, at last reaching the point where her tongue seemed to stretch out to an impossible distance and she actually licked his balls.

Rising, rising, rising feeling. She could faint, but she wouldn't. Tight squeezing hot. Fuck suck fuck. Lick squeeze feel tongue. Cunt cock hot prick balls slapping ass slapping balls licking chin pussy. Come, come! COME FUCKING MOTHER-FUCKING EVERYBODY COME WITH ME -- she screamed it with her whole body, screamed it through her stuffed mouth. She was rocking so fast, breathing so fast, that as she came she felt that she was going to fly off the table, tearing off these two cocks and taking them with her. Hot cum filled her, and it dripped down her thighs. Hot cum filled her, and it dripped down her chin. Her body was so alive now, that she felt, as her rocking slowly stopped, that she could draw a picture of the pattern of the dripping cum that was now running down her legs. She tilted her head back, and let the hot stickiness slide down her neck as he pulled out and let it drip drip drip all over her. She stretched out until the cum reached and burned her aching, yearning tits.

The two men who had just fucked her were now sitting or lying back, spent. But as for Tracy... she never felt so alive, so ready for more! She enjoyed licking her lips, tasting sticky strings of cum, in anticipation. She knew that, as soon as everyone recovered themselves, they would nicely, sweetly clean her up, and then --?

How she wanted them to pass her from lap to naked lap. How she wanted to ride each cock at least once in turn, and grind her pussy and tits against each of the women as she gave each one a mutually naked lap dance. She especially wanted to thank her sweet lady friend in a very special way. She wanted to feel her tits against hers, her pussy against hers, as at last she found the lady's sweet mouth and buried her tongue deep inside her.

God! What were they waiting for? She wondered if they would take suggestions from "the victim." She laughed out loud at that, not caring about their reaction. She sighed. She only wanted them to know that this was indeed her fantasy, and now --

-- she was ready for more!