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This
story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are either products of the authors imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
©1998
Ambrosia Vynne
New Orleans promised
to be the vacation of a lifetime. My wife and I had been planning
a second honeymoon for several years, weighing our different
options. New Orleans offered us all we were looking for and
was reasonable enough that we could extend our stay to several
weeks versus a few days. Upon arrival to our hotel, we were
immediately impressed. The city was everything our travel agent
had promised. From our balcony we could smell the different
aroma's from the many cafes and restaurants along the main street.
There were plenty of colorful people to keep us entertained.
We sat for hours on our balcony, absorbing in the carefree atmosphere
of the city, as we sipped the spicy teas.
Our travel agent
boasted, none stop, about one restaurant in particular. Supposedly
it had live voodoo dancers, that entranced you to a different
world. "Mayabo Dava De", was one hard place to get
reservations. Our travel agent pulled several strings to get
us our 7:30 PM reservation. My wife and I were like two giddy
children, waiting for Christmas. We dressed in the local tradition,
adorning ourselves in yards of bright colored material. We arrived
a few minutes early and were slightly surprised with the atmosphere.
It was dark. But not just dark, it was pitch black and cold.
The restaurant's coldness grew on us quickly, and soon we didn't
even notice the difference. My wife, Maya was glad she brought
a small shawl. We were escorted to our table, which was directly
in front of the stage. We were assured that the live performance
would start shortly.
As we looked around
us, we were unable to see any other customers. We could hear
their voices in the darkness, but we couldn't see them. The
small lamp on our table, shed just enough light to allow us
to see each other, nothing more. The atmosphere was almost eerie.
The waiter came to our table, and took our order. Though the
menu was in English, we understood little we had read. The waiter
gave us several good suggestions and we were willing to try
something new. From behind us, in the smothering darkness, we
heard wild jungle drums beating, gradually becoming loader,
as if they were moving to the front. With the sound of an explosion,
came a cloud of billowing gray smoke in the center of the stage.
As the smoke settled, a women appeared, being born from the
stage and smoke. She danced to the beating of the drums, her
feet barely touching the floor. She moved like liquid, miraculously
rebounding from difficult bends and movements. She was as limbo
as a circus performer, and as graceful as a butterfly. She had
long black hair that covered most of her bare waist. As more
of the smoke cleared, we became aware that the dancer was partially
naked, wearing only the smallest G-string. As she continued
to dance, her breasts never heaved or moved.
The rhythm of the
drums changed, beating faster, as if danger was close. Placing
a hand over my heart, I could feel my body beating to the same
rhythm as the drums. Our lamp seemed to be extinguished, as
all light left the restaurant, leaving us in pitch blackness.
The blackness, slithered and became alive, crawling over my
skin, leaving a cold slimy trail. For a moment I thought I was
dreaming, as I opened my eyes. I was no longer at the restaurant,
but on the Bayou being transported in a small wooden boat. My
wife was not with me. I was alone with the beautiful mysteries
creature that had danced on the stage. I tried moving my lips
to ask questions, but nothing came from my mouth. When we got
to shore, she helped me out. In the jungle she became free,
stripping off the little remnant of clothing. I felt my hands
undressing myself, wanting also to be free. We ran together
in the jungle like a pair of wild animals. She caught a small
rabbit, and brought it to me. I could smell the blood running
through its veins and wanted to taste its wine. Together we
bit into the a live animal, tasting the sweet copperness of
its blood. We smeared the blood over our bodies, basking in
its warmth. Being controlled by our animal natures, we grabbed
each other, with a mad hungry lust. I pushed her to the ground,
and pounded my meat deep inside her. She withered and dug her
long red finger nails deep across my back. As I continued to
fuck her hard, she responded by tilting her beautiful tight
black ass, meeting my blows.
I remember dumping
my first load, ready and wanting for more. She some how held
me back, sinking her teeth into my balls, drawing out my blood.
Instead of being enraged, this just made me want her more. My
cock became hard and steady, easily finding her little tight
ass hole. I shoved myself deep within her, for the second time,
wanting to plunge right through. Again, she welcomed my blows,
arching her body, forcing me deeper and deeper inside. She was
warm and soft, and yet strong. She smelled of animal blood,
which acted as an aphrodisiac, making me want more. She knew
how to please me with just the simplest act, and yet, somehow
I felt like I was a puppet on a string. There were several minutes
I lost consciousness, swimming from one fantasy to the next.
When I woke, there were several maidens around me. They all
had beautiful smooth black skin that covered their tight muscular
bodies. They were my she lions and I was their master. They
danced around me, flashing me with their wet hot pussies. I
wanted them all, and not one at a time either. I tried to stand,
but soon discovered I had been tied down. I looked down at my
cock, and it was as hard as a rock. Catching my look, the maidens
began to laugh. They came to me as one, covering my body like
hungry locusts ready for a meal.
They licked and sucked
as others massaged. The dancer was among them as she prepared
her self to straddle me. Several of the maidens moved to her,
sucking and cleaning her pussy. They kissed and teased her firm
tits. They stroked her bush and ran their fingers down her clit.
They kissed her sweet mouth, while massaging her small tight
buttocks. She glided to me like on the wings of a dove, and
slowly, painstakingly, lowered herself onto my penis. Several
of the maidens stayed behind her rubbing her back and stroking
her hair. Other's licked and sucked on my balls, that were firmly
between her creamy thighs. And yet even others, massaged and
teased my nipples. One of the maidens, straddled my face, forcing
her sweet pussy into my mouth. I hungrily sucked, needing its
nourishment. The dancer road my cock hard and swift, as I sucked
on the delicate morsel that was placed on my face. It felt like
a hundred hands touching and caressing me, overloading my senses.
I released a second load, gushing my cum deep into her dark
pussy. After coming, I remember little else. I remember flying
or feeling like I was flying, higher and higher almost reaching
the clouds. I remember coming a third time, with little effort.
I remember the cries of orgasmic enjoyment from the maidens,
as they withered in pleasure.
The next time I opened
my eyes, I was in bed next to my wife. At first, I thought it
had been just a dream, until I tried to move. I was so soar,
it took effort just sitting up. There were red ugly marks on
both of my wrists. But that was not all, when I inspected my
cock, there were several sets of deep bite marks that were in
the process of healing. They looked weeks old. I called down
to the desk, and the manager inquired when we would be checking
out. I was indigent, since we had only checked in that morning.
The manager patiently explained that my wife and I had been
there for 3 weeks, and this morning was our scheduled day for
departure.
Maya and hardly talk
about our second honeymoon. When we got home, few believed our
story. Nightly my dreams of filled with my pagan sexual acts
with all those women. I dare not say anything to my wife. She
remembers getting food poisoning and spending the rest of our
trip in bed. She said I came and went as I pleased, spending
very little time with her. The bite marks healed leaving tiny
scares. When I touch the scares, my finger feels like they are
burning and I have to pull away. What really happened in New
Orleans, I will never know. But one thing is for sure, it was
the trip of a lifetime...
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