Eso - Seven Deadly Sins - 20151021

Angelina tilted her head to her conspirator Bradley.  She gave the signal, flashing a septet of stud earrings in her left lobe.  Hair was a jet black, lipstick vulva red, skin ivory with a pelt bead of sweat eyeing the wallet in the front side of the stranger’s tuxedo pants.  Angelina eyes grazed the raised bulge in the mark’s groin fabric.  Her partner on the other side of the room glanced at Angelina through a mirror admiring the curves of her torso, swan legs, but also his black stubble and clean cut quaffed hair peering steel into the mirror on the adjacent wall.  Bradley could look without appearing pensive and sterilized visualizing what it was like for his body to press into Angelina’s dirty, naked, and tight.

Angelina approached the wallet-endowed, pretended to bump nonchalantly as he puffed on a tobacco island in the muddle of the barroom.  Angelina had both hands on his shoulders, whispering in his ear, “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.  Do you want to get out of here and fuck?”  The cigarette fell from his lips stumbling in his left hand, wedding ring gleaming as the orange glowing stick careened off the metal. The tube of smoke rolled onto the brick floor of the tavern barreling under the smashed snuff of Angelina’s stiletto heel.

In the flash a wallet was exchanged round the back, slid into Bradley’s palm.  The movement of Angelina’s mouth a half inch away from lips the scent of perfume redolent flexing like fish hooks the mark looked at her cleavage and was pulled to the stairway down to exit.  A cab paid by her, hands sowing discordant seeds in the back seat, no words but blood and plots. 

A hotel lobby, elevator, room seven hundred and seventy seven, an electronic pass card and a master suite.  Mahogany and leather, crimson paint, dimmed lights and a door locked with the manual barrier impeding intruders.  Angelina pushed the man to the bed sheets, legs wrestling like pythons nailing his wood to the mattress, clothes still applied. 

A bottle of Southern Comfort, a Merlot, and five more bottles of spirits sat on the night stand.  Angelina pulled up and said, “I want you to drink.” Angelina opened a drawer and pulled out six shot glasses, poured a separate spirit into each and a swirled a glisten of wine into her own cup.  The man downed each, pausing slightly for Angelina’s approval in between the fourth and the fifth, knocking over two of the bottles when reaching for the last.  The liquid washed the carpet.  Angelina extended a pill of ecstasy in her palm.  Gulping and grinning, his black tie strewn on the chaise lounge, the man removed his jacket and tuxedo shirt.  

The man smiled mead-laced and cock-strong proud of his indulgent prowess.  Angelina set her glass inside the drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, slowly attaching his left and right hands spread to the head board.  The bondage perked the slothful inattention. Angelina recused herself to the rest room, “Let me freshen up and I’ll come back in here and fuck your brains out.”  The man thought about his pants still on his body, how much he wanted them off, an insatiable desire to take Angelina, the hubris to know he still could, his besotted dick still hard underneath the cloth.   

Angelina came out the shadowed doorway like the devil’s smile.  The man’s eyes blinked like a hoarder collecting masturbatory material. Bradley appeared behind her like angel wings of a taller man smiling at a spider caught in a web. Angelina was completely naked, breasts like apple teardrops succulent and flushed.  Bradley’s jacket parted, hirsute chest exposed, the man’s wallet in his left hand the right gripping Angelina’s hip. 

Bradley spoke, “We know where you live.  You are on camera and your wife will know.”  Wrath brewed in the man’s eyes, mouth a hellacious growl of female canine as the referenced wench gripped a red ball with black strap round the man’s head gagging his maw.  Angelina said, “Eat, suck on it.  Now you are going to watch.”

Bradley took out a knife, slit the man’s pants exposing his purple flushed veiny cock, curved erect excited and rattling like a Soviet saber.  He held the blade giving a look indicating what would happen if the man moved or attempted to make too much noise.  Bradley used the tattered fabric to wrap the man’s ankles.  Angelina leaned over the man’s legs brushing her breasts against his legs draping her nipples and honing her mouth over the head of his penis, but pausing a half inch away extending her tongue to open air.  Bradley mounted Angelina from behind spreading her cheeks inserting his thick penis into her anus. Angelina pressed her forearms in like a Sphinx over the man’s body as he basted in lechery. 

The man wanted to both slap her and launch his own penis those inches higher into her mouth.  He looked at Bradley and wanted to be him, flip roles, and dominate on top like animal instead of this compliant shackled sloth. 

Angelina tilted her pelvis, raised her chest twenty degrees and lowered her hand to stimulate her clit as Bradley continued to drive.  Angelina came.  Bradley snorted like a racehorse, grunting and huffing to the finish line. 

The pair stood, dressed, wiped the room for finger prints, and retrieved the camera on the dresser.  The housekeeper found a bloated naked runt in the morning stammering like a leashed Labrador.