Volume 15: Maximum Exposure
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For the rest of the train trip, Selene and I sat back and watched the other travelers. My sister was - very temporarily, I am sure - sated from the attentions of the Dollface and the redhead, while I spent much of the time staring out of the window, thinking further about the scheme I had hatched for Selene's party. By the time my attention had returned to the here-and-now, most of the passengers had departed at the numerous stops along the line. The car was by now nearly empty and I was only vaguely aware of a couple of people at the far end of the carriage. "What is that?" Selene hissed in my ear, pointing down the car. I smiled. Of course my sister had never encountered one of his Kind before. "He's a Satyr," I explained, "Huge cock, hard instantly, horny as hell and able to keep it up for hours." The Satyr, with the priapic reactions characteristic of his kind, was already erect, his immense dick proudly emerging from the dark and curly fur that covered his body from waist to mid-calf. The upper part of his body was clothed in a sleeveless white tee-shirt that emphasized his broad chest and shoulders, and the hair on his head and the little goatee beard he sported were of the same thick brown hair that covered his lower body. "But why has he got all that hair on his legs?" Selene pressed. I laughed aloud, just managing to deaden the sound behind my hand. "Can you imagine," I replied, speaking directly into Selene's ear, "Just how uncomfortable that erection would be if he was wearing any trousers?" "Oh!" Selene said, her eyes widening as she took in the information. I felt sure I had seen this particular Satyr before. Perhaps, I was beginning to suspect, this particular horny old goat had taken to traveling frequently on the Metro principally as a way of encountering interesting strangers - a possibility I had entertained myself on more than one occasion. On this journey, the Satyr was attending to the urgent needs of a statuesque woman with incredibly dark skin and short-clipped white hair, presenting a contrasting effect that was emphasized by her flashing white eyes, white teeth, silver fingernails, and silver gloss on her lips - both the ones around her mouth and, I could now see clearly, the ones between her legs. As we watched, she had bent forward from the waist, licking the Satyr's dick - there was no way she could get even the tip into her mouth - while holding it determinedly in both hands. She had hitched up her short skirt and separated her legs instinctively - or perhaps because she knew we were watching her from a distance. She looked to me very much like a woman who knew what she wanted and was determined to get it as soon as possible. She pressed the Satyr back against the seating and straddled his face, clearly urging him to lick her out, to explore the soft folds around her cunt. He was clearly doing this very effectively, judging by the intense expressions of pleasure that racked her face. In a low voice, I explained to Selene about Satyr's saliva, which was thick and immensely effective as lubrication. "So you're experienced this yourself?" Selene asked, sounding, to my amusement, slightly shocked. "Oh, yes," I said, a huge grin spreading over my face as I thought back to one or two recent - and highly satisfactory - encounters with others of his Kind, "You must try it yourself sometime." By now, the Satyr's protruding cock, dramatically ribbed and veined, was a delightful pink against his dark curls and her dark skin. The woman slid down onto his lap, skillfully guiding the immense dick straight into her moistened vagina, taking an astonishingly large fraction of his length inside herself. Next to me, Selene gasped, seeing just how much of his cock the black woman was determined to enjoy. In moments, she was already working her way up to her first orgasm, forcing herself down on his cock again and again, and crying out expressions of encouragement and ecstasy in equal measure. The evidence of the Satyr's oral enthusiasm was apparent in the vestiges of silver lipstick all around his mouth. Our stop arrived, the Metro rumbling to a halt. The doors hissed open. I nudged Selene, who was still engrossed in the spectacle at the far end of the carriage, and guided her onto the platform. Even after the doors closed and the Metro car had begun to pull out of the station, the black woman was still energetically bouncing up and down on the Satyr's lap, her face still twisted into paroxysms of delight. Good for her, I thought.
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Part 1