Two Gracious Guests (18+)

In a distant European city two American friends found themselves out of their minds in an oasis surrounding a desert of poverty and ruin.

“Can you believe ten bucks bought all of this,” Aaron exclaimed.

“We must be in Romania or somewhere similar,” Marty replied.

“I don’t know, everything seems a bit different,” Marty continued. “Last we checked we were on that bus headed out of the Ukraine, fell asleep and were dropped off at that bus stop way back there.”

“Can you believe our luck with finding this place,” Aaron stated enthusiastically. “Unbelievable!”

The music boomed and pulsed all around them, their vision blurred and focused, and then blurred again.

“These drinks are kicking my ass.”

“Aaron, how’s yours treating you?”

“Like I’m its bitch.”

Marty raised his drink up from where he sat in his wheelchair to meet Aaron’s.

“Look at that one,” Marty pointed. A gorgeous, young woman walked by and winked at the two foreigners.

“She must be one of the dancers,” Aaron leaned in and spoke in Marty’s ear. “No way is she lookin’ at us like that for free.”

“I don’t see any empty dance floors,” Marty replied, providing a guided panorama with his arm as he motioned across the club.

As far as the two could see, elevated platforms sat in no particular order. They were spacious enough to keep a group of ten easily maintained. From the ceiling, lights hung in like-haphazard arrangement, spotting various random areas of the dance club’s floors, giving everyone their chance to be a star. Cages hosted canaries who sang along to each industrial beat through the movement of their featherless wings. It wasn’t a strip club. It was better. And a candid salute to indulgence awaited them.

“There’s one.” Aaron pointed to a lonely platform that sat several feet above the ground in the distance. “But maybe she’s next in line.” He snorted. “No way we’re getting pussy like that to notice us.”

“Well,” Marty piped in. “We are foreign, rich...well, rich by their standards, and relatively good looking, I think. I say, why question it. Just go ahead and do it if it feels right. We’re on vacation, man!”

The two toasted again and then advanced towards a thicket of heavenly bunnies that grazed on beats of rhythm and Long Islands illuminated in long, carrot-shaped glasses. And from there the night went on; an immeasurable, dizzying array of looks and flirts, free drinks, and complementary lap dances for Marty from playful patrons at his “expense”. But with all the tail that shimmied by, Marty still couldn’t get the first one out of his head. The dark-haired, blue-eyed siren who had disappeared as quickly as she had first appeared. Aaron kept occasionally in sight, darting from one blonde to the next. Once in a while he’d come back to update Marty on the tit-size of the last song’s bunny or the next song’s potential. Marty didn’t care. He had a one-snatch mind. Where was she?

That’s when he heard it.

“Your friend ditch you?”

Her perfume was louder than the music. It caught him and spun him around to where Marty found himself staring into her eyes.

“Evelyn.” She introduced herself. Those big, blue beautiful eyes blinked. Her lashes were so close that Marty could feel them tickle his face. Her hand shot out. He took it.

“N-n-nice to meet you.”

On the club floor the two danced. Evelyn teased him in a long, tight, lucky-to-be-on-her dress. Marty wore a baseball cap, jeans, and a sport coat partially covering a Cleveland Indians T-Shirt. This odd coupling made the whole scenario feel even more so impossible. He looked like a Yankee museum prop; a mannequin in an antique shop, even. Finally it came to a boil and Marty had to ask.

“Why, why did you come over and ask me to dance?” He fumbled over his words. He was worried that he would botch the whole thing. It was worse than that, however. He didn’t heed his own advice; the words of whiskey-soaked wisdom he had spouted to his friend about doing something if it feels good. Fuck it. Rather, he fell flat on top of it. He put his hand on the bill of his cap and prepared to throw it to the ground in defeat.

“I like American guys who don’t try to impress me.” Evelyn giggled and pressed the tip of her painted index finger onto the Cleveland Indian target sign that expanded the front of his tee.

“Yea?” Marty replied with more confidence.

“Yea,” Evelyn reaffirmed. “Too many men around here try to impress women with their big talk. But they are just that.”

“Just what?”

“Big talk.” Evelyn took another sip of her drink. “Big talk and no walk.” She looked down. “I can tell you’re different.”

“How,” Marty asked.

“Because,” Evelyn continued. “You’re all walk and no talk.”

“Well,” Marty felt the need to correct her. “I’ve been no walk for about ten years now.” He pointed to his legs. “Ironic, huh.” A nervous laugh followed.

“Ironic?” Evelyn didn’t get it. “What’s this ironic?”

“Well,” Marty replied. “It’s ironic because you are saying that I walk because I do what I say. Something like that. However, I can’t walk physically.” He pointed to his wheelchair and patted his useless appendages harshly. Evelyn let out a laugh.

“You’re cute, you know.” But before Marty could get a word in, he felt her wet, blushing lips pressed against his and her tongue slipping inside his mouth. Marty’s head exploded and he almost pressed his hand against his chest to make sure everything still worked in there. His pants bulged and then grew rapidly wet. Marty’s eyes opened wide in surprise and he grew beet red.

“Oh, my,” Evelyn gasped. “I’m terribly sorry! Let me get something to clean that up.”

Marty waited for about a minute until he spotted her approaching him with a full drink in one hand and a bar towel in the other.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she reminded him. “Really, I—.”

“Oh, it’s, it’s okay.” Evelyn squatted by Marty and dabbed his crotch before he could tell her not to. But before he knew it, before he could tell her that he’d clean up the drink she had spilt in his lap, she discovered the secret that his taut pants were struggling to contain.

“Oh,” Evelyn softly spoke to herself. Out of nervousness and inebriation, Marty let out a wild string of uncontrollable laughter and, when she felt the awkwardness in her pass, she joined in to joke with him.

“I guess something down there is still working,” she teased. Marty laughed again and exchanged a sweet smile.

“You think I’d be in a place like this if it wasn’t?”

Evelyn looked over at something in the distance.

“I don’t know,” she answered kindly. “Maybe your friend invited you.” She pointed to Aaron, who was sandwiched in between two bombshells. Evelyn looked at the watch that rested enchantingly along her wrist.

“This place will be closing soon. You and your friend have a place to stay tonight?”

Marty swallowed hard. This was it. It had to most certainly be an invitation. It had to be.

“Uh, well, we don’t know anyone around here and we’re just staying in the hostel down the street.”

“Oh. You like?” Evelyn sounded disappointed.

“Not really. It smells funny,” Marty replied honestly and chuckled.

“Well, why don’t you and your friend stay with me and my family tonight?”

“Oh,” Marty replied and, assuming the worst, threw out a prodding question to help affirm his fears. “Stay with your husband and kids?”

Evelyn laughed and pushed him lightly on the arm.

“No, I live with my mom and dad who live with my grandparents.”

“Oooooohhhh.” A sigh of relief washed through Marty. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course, we love company.”

“Okay,” Marty replied. “I’ll go tell my friend. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy. He isn’t really into the hostel thing, either.”

After the club closed, the four; Evelyn, Marty, Aaron, and a cute, mousy brunette named Iana, whose English was appalling but was a little more than adequate to understand Aaron’s invitation to “go home and fuck”, walked down the empty broken streets towards the hostel and onward to Evelyn’s. The transition didn’t take long and the four were inside her place. Introductions were soon made and a brief, necessary tour followed. The house was small, but cozy. It had a rustic sentiment to it and a surprising number of rooms that fit Evelyn’s grandparents in one, her parents in another, and her, Marty, Aaron and Iana in the third. To the four in their state of minds, the place resembled a maze; tight, awkwardly constructed, and offset by wall paneling that resembled doors without knobs, possibly leading to secret rooms or corridors.

At the end of it, the four youngest occupants came to be naked in a matter of minutes. Across the room, Aaron and Iana kept each other guessing, congratulating one another as sexual gratuities were met. And near the entrance, Marty and Evelyn worked at a slower, yet equally satisfying, pace.

“You sure your family doesn’t mind,” Marty asked, playing the gentleman. Foreign women loved gentlemen.

“No, of course not,” Evelyn reaffirmed. “They love it when I have a sweet, strong man to protect me. They’re old-fashioned that way.”

Marty paused briefly to swallow the compliment and then put his fingers back, reaching deeper inside her to match his heightened confidence. He slid his fingers out and in again as far as they could go. Evelyn squealed with delight and clamped her teeth sensually upon his neck, leaving a red, disjointed circle along its arc. Marty’s body seemingly convulsed as a wave of pleasure from her gestures nearly bucked Evelyn off him. Lust coursed and bubbled greatly in her and she grabbed his swollen cock. Marty slid his fingers out from inside his goddess and up along her irresistible contours; teasing her clit and ending upon her erect nipples. He brought her closer to him and licked her breasts, slowly trailing his tongue on up her flawless, ivory neck. As he landed a kiss upon her lips, she pulled away, pushed him down and mounted him again, sliding his impatient member deep inside her. Marty fell down upon the soft bed, surrendering to ecstasy as she began to ride him.

Aaron and Iana were well on their way to near sexual daredevilry with their exploits when Marty and Evelyn began theirs. Iana seemed to be climaxing nearly after every other breath as Aaron thrust boastfully inside her. From his position behind, he had to rely on her vocal appreciations to equate the look of perpetual satisfaction that Marty, from his position across the room, could see painted on her face. And as quickly as her climaxes came, Aaron and Iana had switched positions, their sweaty bodies now upright and pressed against each other. Iana’s curvy figure seemed to glisten with sweat and an irresistible pheromones rose from her jet-black hair like heat from a desert highway – and this was worth Aaron holding out, though his body begged for release. Iana felt hers quiver, as well. Aaron was firm inside her still and each slight movement of him brought her to bite her lip and grab onto him tighter. And suddenly, as she freed her inhibitions once more, she felt that she was momentarily airborne and once again embraced by the comfort of the well-tested bed below her. Aaron formed fists with his hands to match Iana’s; both held fistfuls of blanket and bed sheets. Soon after, Aaron could hold out no longer and the tidal wave of release crested and broke over him.