CirqueErotique Read online

  His other hand moved down my neck to my breast, the lightest caress that sent lightning sizzling through my core. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” A whisper. A sigh.

  He cupped both breasts and squeezed just shy of painfully, pulled me tighter against his hardness. His erection tucked almost between my cheeks, his body molding my dress to my buttocks. I wiggled against his cock, trying to wedge him farther, a low moan vibrating in my throat. He blew a cool breath from my ear to my neck then pressed his lips against the side of my throat, as if answering an invitation. His lips seared my skin, his hot tongue licking my sweat with long, lazy strokes.

  “Yes,” I moaned, wanting more.

  “Keep watching.”

  As if I could stop. I was mesmerized by the scene playing out in the room before me. I bent deeply and watched the conjoined twins jerk off together as I felt my skirt lift. Long, hot fingers slid inside my damp panties from behind. I was so fucking hot. His fingers dipped into my pussy, just once, and I knew they’d come away slick. I rocked backward, rubbing against the hard bulge in his pants. I wanted more than just his fingers inside me. I wanted to be fucked until I cried out and came at the same moment the twins finally brought each other to orgasm.

  I heard the sound of a zipper then felt the heat of his cock against my slit, where it rubbed gently. I shuddered. There was no turning away now. I wanted to be filled. I wanted to be fucked more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

  I braced myself on the wall beside the door, still keeping the twins in sight. They were turned slightly now, almost facing each other. Their cocks danced together, rubbing and sliding as they stroked from balls to crowns, first their own, then each other’s. How beautiful to know exactly what your partner needs. How exciting to feel exactly what they felt at the exact moment, to be able to come together in two bursts of mutual orgasm.

  Oh…oh my God!

  I gasped when Tony entered me in one hard thrust, rocking forward and back to the same steady beat as the twins. Did he know how close they were? Had he watched them before, studied their rhythm?

  I pressed my sweaty palms hard against the wall to steady myself. My hips jerked, urging him, and he tightened his grip, holding me still as I trembled like the last leaf on an autumn-stripped tree while his cock plunged into me, over and over. For a breathless moment, all four of us stilled, letting the tension build—before it overflowed like a plummeting waterfall.

  Then Tony drew back and plunged forward again, straight and hard. His hand clamped over my mouth just before I could cry out. He rocked faster, holding the scream inside me, faster still, fucking me hard, relentlessly, brutally, while I watched the twins crash and come in unison.

  Tony’s hand slipped away from my mouth as I came with them, my own soft cries drowned out by their shouts of ecstasy. Their orgasms shot in hot streams against their bellies and thighs while mine flowed like molten lava, inside and out.

  I came again when Tony reached between my legs and pinched my engorged clit. My hair fell into my face as I gave myself over to him completely. He bent over me, moaning softly in my ear as he ground himself against my backside, his cock erupting. My entire body shook and he held me tighter, closer, keeping me steady as he strained inside me, still coming in short, scalding spurts. So. Fucking. Hot.

  I shuddered. My thighs felt slick with our combined juices.

  He pulled me upright, still holding me tight against his body. Slowly he withdrew before walking us backward, away from the doorway. I had a brief image of the twins collapsing together in an exhausted tangle. I felt intimately connected to them, as if we’d shared a secret tryst.

  Tony released me and suddenly there was a glass of water pressed between my breasts. I had no idea where it had come from. I clasped the glass, letting the condensation trickle down my chest. Then I drank in long, deep gulps. I stopped once to catch my breath, ignoring the spike of pain in my temple from drinking the ice-cold water too fast. I tipped my head back and finished it off, saving the last few drops to sprinkle over my forehead and flushed cheeks. Nothing in my life had ever felt and tasted so good.

  I turned with a smile of thanks on my lips, but Tony was gone.

  I searched the darkened hallway but there was no sign of him. I was alone. It was as if the house had swallowed him whole. Or maybe he’d just been a figment of my overheated imagination. Right…

  I peeked in the bedroom, only to find the twins snoring softly in each other’s arm. I turned, and only then did I notice a table behind me in the hallway. A circle of condensation showed where Tony had obviously left the glass while we’d made love.

  Maybe “making love” wasn’t the right term.

  We’d fucked like two strangers who couldn’t help themselves. And I had no regrets. None at all. It was as if something in this house had stripped me of any self-control.

  I placed the empty glass back on the table and wandered down the hall slowly, trying to get my bearings. Which way had I come from? How many rooms were in this place? The layout of the house followed no normal rhyme or reason. I followed long, mazelike halls only to find myself at a dead-end corridor. There were doorways leading to nowhere and empty rooms that opened into other empty rooms.

  Just when I thought myself hopelessly lost, I heard crying again. Maybe it was a signal, leading me back to where I’d started my strange, erotic journey.

  I turned and retraced my steps, making my way back down the endless hallway. Following the heart-wrenching sound, I came to a set of pocket doors that I’d somehow missed on my last trip down this very same corridor. From behind the doors the sobbing grew louder and even more plaintive. It affected me deeply, every fiber of my being screaming to make it stop.

  The doors opened onto a bedroom draped in satin and silk. My feet sank into a rug as lush as a cloud. Crystal vases held pink and pale-white rosebuds, their sweet scents lingering in the softly feminine room. A single brass lamp with a rose-colored shade lit the space in a blushing glow. I felt as if I was stepping into a fairytale.

  Sitting in a chair at a dressing table was the same woman I’d seen outside. Her hair was brushed gold curls. Kewpie-doll lips against porcelain skin presented a striking picture. She was still naked from the waist up, breasts full and high. A silk sarong was tied loosely around her hips. Cornflower-blue eyes glistened with tears.

  She pointed at me. “I can smell him on you.”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t have to ask who he was. “Are you two…?”

  “No,” she said. Her voice hitched with uncontrollable sobs. “He could never…love me.” She closed her eyes, too late to hide the pain I’d already seen in them. “I’m…ugly.”

  “How can you say that? You’re beautiful.” I meant it. She was flawless from head to toe. I stepped closer. “Any man would be a fool not to see that.”

  “Really?” she asked, a trace of bitterness in her voice. She stood up and untied the sarong, letting it fall to the ground. “Do you really think so?”

  I stared at the small but fully formed penis between her legs. It was petal-pink and perfectly shaped, nestled in a bed of blonde curls.

  I should have been shocked, but I wasn’t. There was something so natural about her body. Natural and, yes, beautiful. I raised my gaze to hers. “Yes,” I said truthfully. “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

  She sighed, her breath hitching, then took a step closer. “Not like you.” She reached out and traced a tattooed rose along my left arm, lingering at each bloody thorn. “You’re as pretty as a painting,” she said, following an ivy trail up to my shoulder and across my collarbone. “A beautiful painting.” Her fingertips grazed the upper curve of my breast. “May I see more?”

  Unashamed, I nodded and unbuttoned my dress, revealing the ink covering much of my body. If you knew what to look for, you could read the story of my life in tattoos—the bloom of the rose, the sleek pelt of the tiger, the deadly slithering snake. Each line of ink told part
of the story, but only half of my body was covered. There was more to say, more to be explored. Only when my life was over would the drawing truly be complete.

  She stopped at the unchained heart. Her gaze held mine, full of empathy. I didn’t have to tell her what that broken chain represented. She seemed to understand the symbolism on a deeply personal level.

  My skin flushed as her fingertips traveled from one tattoo to the next, sensually tracing each one. She leaned in for closer inspection and her breath left a warm trail along the surface of my skin. Each tattoo became an erogenous zone of its own under her expert fingers. She moved closer still, inspecting the tattoos more thoroughly, pinching and tickling. The pointed tips of her nipples brushed the taut skin of my belly, sending waves of heat from head to toe.

  Our gazes met.

  There was a crushing need in her eyes that I couldn’t ignore. I was drawn to her, intent on filling that need and having my own filled in return. I couldn’t explain it, nor did I feel the need to understand. I just knew that following my own desires was exactly what we both needed.

  I reached out to cup her breasts, letting the fullness rest against my palms. Her skin smelled of lavender. I took a deep breath and stepped closer, letting my nipples brush against hers. The contact sent a delicious jolt to my already sensitive groin.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been intimate with a woman. Pleasure comes in all shapes and sizes. It was, however, the first time I’d felt desire for a hermaphrodite.

  A shiver of anticipation ran through me. Now that I thought about it, wouldn’t she make the perfect lover? I could luxuriate in the soft, sensual touch of a woman while enjoying the familiar penetration of a man. It was the best of both worlds.

  I dipped my head and brushed my lips over her nipples, one at a time, teasing them to full erectness. She moaned softly when I drew one fully into my mouth, sucking and tugging until her moans became deeper. I nipped gently with my teeth and felt her body tremble.

  Then I reached between her legs.

  Though still small, the penis was hard and fully erect. The tip was softer than a butterfly’s wings.

  I dropped to my knees and pressed my face between her legs, inhaling her musky sweetness, rubbing my cheek against the softness of her cock. How lovely. Only a woman could have a penis so delicately shaped. Even her testes were delicate, two smooth orbs, no bigger than large, ripened grapes. I parted my lips and rolled the balls gently over my tongue.

  Her body shuddered and I wondered if anyone had ever made love to her like this before, without shame or hesitation. Had anyone ever fully appreciated all the delicacies her unique body had to offer, or was I the first?

  I ran the tip of my tongue up and over her shaft, teasing slowly while kneading her firm ass cheeks, tugging her forward and back. She arched her hips and pressed against me, an invitation I was more than willing to accept. Her soft moans of pleasure sent a surge of electricity to my already slick core.

  I kissed the tip of her cock then parted my lips and drew her slowly inside the moist cavern of my mouth, easily taking in the entire length of her shaft. My bottom lip came to rest against her tight, high lady-balls. I suckled her with just the pressure of my lips and tongue, drawing deeply until her moans came deep and fast.

  She held back, unwilling to come. “Please,” she moaned. “Let me inside you! It’s the closest I’ll ever come to making love to him.”

  My heart broke for this woman whose body would never be accepted by the man she so desperately wanted. I understood her need to be close to him in any way possible, even if it meant simply sharing someone else’s body. I was willing to give her that. It was the least I could do.

  I stood and took her hand, leading her across the room. I stretched out onto the bed and lay back, my legs spread wide. I imagined my body as she must see it, the curves and planes covered with color. A storybook opened for her pleasure alone. Her gaze widened as it followed a particular trail of ink that stretched up my thigh and around to my clit. She nodded, almost sadly, and her smile seemed to hold a secret knowledge of which I was unaware. There wasn’t time to wonder, however.

  My thighs were sticky slick with Tony’s cum. She lowered herself to the bed with the grace of a dancer and I let her explore between my spread legs, smelling him on my skin. She moaned and licked my thighs, then inched forward, pushing her nose against my swollen outer lips. I had all I could do to keep myself from coming when her tongue flicked out and parted them, licking upward and tickling my clit. I moaned and lifted my hips, begging for more.

  “I smell him all over you,” she breathed. This time there was no trace of jealousy. I heard the hunger in her voice, a hunger I shared as well.

  “Yes,” I replied, following her lead. “He came hard and deep inside me. He came so much I could barely contain it. He filled me with his cum. Over and over and over again.”

  She groaned and stretched her tongue between my legs, sucking and lapping the honeyed juices that flowed freely. Her tongue drove deep inside me, thrusting, taking me higher and higher until I couldn’t hold back a single second more. My body was already primed, rising quickly to the heights of yet another orgasm. “Now!” I cried out. “Take me now. Take us now!”

  She reared up, arched her back and drove into me, pumping her small cock furiously. My hips writhed, joining her rhythm. I ground my clit against her pubic bone with each thrust as she fucked me with everything she had.

  “Tony, Tony, Tony!” she cried as she came. I wrapped my legs around her waist, letting her fill me. I imagined her cum joining with Tony’s, giving her the shared orgasm she’d never know any other way. I was simply the vessel, the closest she’d ever get to making love to him. Tony was the silent participant in our ménage a trois.

  That didn’t stop me from enjoying my own orgasm as she jerked inside me. I tightened my legs and hung on while she bucked and quivered. She gave one final shuddering gasp and jerked deeply again, holding herself inside me until the trembling stopped.

  We lay together afterward, loose and spent. We caressed each other’s hot skin, whispering sweet words of pleasure while the delicious drowsiness overtook us both. I could be wrong, but just before sleep settled over me, I thought I heard her whisper in my ear, “You’re one of us now.”

  Chapter Two

  I might have slept for hours or days. My body felt soft and languid, like warm taffy left out in the afternoon sun. Something woke me, a strange, exotic sound that dragged me from feverish and sultry dreams.

  I opened my eyes—and gasped.

  Squatting at the foot of the bed was a small circus monkey. He wore an orange cap and a yellow fringed jacket. As if waiting to be sure he had my full attention, he pursed his lips, made a rising series of monkey howls, then grabbed his thin penis and started jerking furiously.

  I scooted back, my spine pressed against the headboard, afraid he’d squirt his monkey cum all over me.

  Before that could happen, a white-haired man rushed into the room and grabbed the monkey around the waist. “No, Jojo, bad boy!” he scolded. The monkey settled on the man’s shoulder and wrapped a serpentine tail around his neck. He bared his teeth at me and screeched, as if it was my fault he’d been interrupted.

  “He mean no harm,” said the man. “He like to touch his self, that’s all.” The man gave a shrug. “Who don’t, right?” He reached up and stroked the monkey’s head. “Other than that, he a good boy, right, Jojo?”

  The monkey chattered and nodded his head rapidly up and down.

  “It’s…um. It’s okay,” I stammered, feeling around for my clothes. “I’ll just, uh, be out of your way in a second.”

  “No, no,” the man said, waving his free hand in my direction. “You stay. Tony’s looking for you.” He frowned and chewed his lower lip. “We won’t tell Tony that Jojo was a bad boy, right?”

  I sincerely doubted Tony would care, but I shook my head anyway. “It’ll be our little secret,” I said.

  The man tur
ned to leave and the monkey stared at me over his shoulder. He shot me a lascivious grin, which appeared more human than simian, and then blew me a kiss on his way out the door. I couldn’t help but laugh incredulously at the monkey’s antics, especially now that he was out of jizz-shooting range.

  I shook my head. What kind of a freak show was this?

  Then I realized I’d answered my own question. A circus. Of course. First there were the Siamese twins, then the hermaphrodite and finally a trained monkey.

  A coil of heat wound its way up my center. Cirque Erotique. I should have made the connection. What other oddities might I find here if I stayed long enough? Pleasures I’d never dreamed of? Experiences I couldn’t even begin to describe?

  I’d set out to find adventure and adventure had found me by accident.

  Or was it? I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something slightly sinister at work here. The house called to me, like a seductive siren luring me into dark, dangerous waters. I was enthralled, completely under its spell, doing things I’d never imagined. But how would I feel once I returned to the real world? Would it feel like an erotic dream or more like a nightmare?

  I still hadn’t found my clothes, so I tugged the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around my nakedness. The sheet felt damp and clammy. I lifted the hair from the back of my neck and rolled it into a loose knot then walked to the window. Darkness stared back at me.

  At least I could see the outdoors instead of feeling trapped in a labyrinth of corridors. I tried to open the window but it was painted shut. I turned instead to the doorway, hoping to step outside for a breath of cool night air. I tugged on the pulls of the pocket doors—but they refused to slide apart. There was no sign of a lock, no reason for the doors not to open as far as I could tell, but no matter how hard I tugged, pushed or pulled, nothing happened.

  It was as if the house wasn’t ready to let me go.

  A shudder ran down my spine. I thought of the old sepia photograph, the aged and yellowed poster. Now I realized even the air smelled ancient, as if trapped in this house for decades. And what about the people who lived here? Were they here of their own free will, or were they trapped in a place they could never leave?