RetroCog (a Power Up! story) Read Online Free
back in 1856.
The history of the place seeped through the walls of the building, but it was the image of Lara that had held him fast. She looked exactly like the woman in the portrait he’d been ordered to bring back. A living, breathing work of art come to life. The same full lips curved up in a smile, those expressive, rich brown eyes, so mysterious yet daring. And that body…
He stifled a groan, wishing he’d indulged in some quick, meaningless sex before flying out here. Because a man who hadn’t had sex in nearly five months, confronted with even half the things he was now seeing, would be hard-pressed to focus on this case. Downstairs, when he’d looked at Lara’s mouth, he’d seen a ghostly overlay of slick, glistening red painted over her lips. Then a woman’s transparent tongue had darted out to lick suggestively, hinting at all kinds of things Lara might do for him.
No, not Lara. That other woman. The one from the portrait.
Noah tried to get a handle on his sweltering libido when another image coalesced into a moving picture on his bed.
“Oh fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Two naked men were all over a woman clad in nothing but garters that held up netted stockings. He had a sense she was a working girl, one of the Lady Fine whores and two of her customers who’d paid for a tumble. Cowboy hats, dusty clothes, and grimy boots lay strewn in one corner, while the rest of the room lay under flickering shadows of candlelight.
As he watched, the noise only he could hear grew louder. Moans and groans, the sucking and smacking sounds of lips over moist flesh. Noah’s cock thickened in seconds—already hard from his recent thoughts of Lara—now eager to participate.
Noah liked to watch, and he liked to play— rough . So the sight of one guy’s head between the woman’s thighs, his cheeks rubbing against her smoky hose while he gorged on a wet cunt, was bad enough. But when the other fucked her face hard enough that she choked around him, Noah had to move to better see the three of them in action.
In and out, the rough guy pushed into the whore’s mouth with eager strokes, his balls mashing against her chin with each shove forward. The woman didn’t seem to mind it much, or she was that good an actress, because she pulled his thighs toward her, encouraging his advances. She shivered and sucked harder as she made whimpering sounds hinting at a climax. The rough guy stilled and yelled out as he came, then pulled away from her. He stepped back and stood next to Noah, the pair of them keen on the outcome still pending. The man kneeling between the whore’s plump thighs reared back, mounted her, and fucked her until he too climaxed.
No condoms, no talking other than grunts and groans. A small pile of coins sat on a washstand across from the iron-post bed, and the creaking of the bedsprings told its own story. After the last man came, he pulled out, and the three lovers smiled at one another.
The ghosts of yesterday vanished until all that remained in the room were Noah, his hard-on, and the same bed soon occupied with new patrons. The scene shifted into another vision of oral sex, this one between two women totally intent on one another. Sixty-nine had become his new favorite number.
Unable to rebuild his shields until he took care of his own needs, Noah grabbed a few tissues, undid his pants, and masturbated to the hottest sex he’d seen in some time. To his annoyance, he kept imagining Lara Graham on her knees, on her back, taking a nipple or a cock between her lips. The urge to dominate Lara, to bend her to his will, tempted him to let loose the bands on his honest needs. The dark desires he normally kept secret threatened to overtake him. Lara, bound and pliant. Submissive, his to play with, his to own … The fantasy only made his rushing orgasm that much more powerful.
Though he didn’t want to be here, and he didn’t like his odd
The history of the place seeped through the walls of the building, but it was the image of Lara that had held him fast. She looked exactly like the woman in the portrait he’d been ordered to bring back. A living, breathing work of art come to life. The same full lips curved up in a smile, those expressive, rich brown eyes, so mysterious yet daring. And that body…
He stifled a groan, wishing he’d indulged in some quick, meaningless sex before flying out here. Because a man who hadn’t had sex in nearly five months, confronted with even half the things he was now seeing, would be hard-pressed to focus on this case. Downstairs, when he’d looked at Lara’s mouth, he’d seen a ghostly overlay of slick, glistening red painted over her lips. Then a woman’s transparent tongue had darted out to lick suggestively, hinting at all kinds of things Lara might do for him.
No, not Lara. That other woman. The one from the portrait.
Noah tried to get a handle on his sweltering libido when another image coalesced into a moving picture on his bed.
“Oh fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Two naked men were all over a woman clad in nothing but garters that held up netted stockings. He had a sense she was a working girl, one of the Lady Fine whores and two of her customers who’d paid for a tumble. Cowboy hats, dusty clothes, and grimy boots lay strewn in one corner, while the rest of the room lay under flickering shadows of candlelight.
As he watched, the noise only he could hear grew louder. Moans and groans, the sucking and smacking sounds of lips over moist flesh. Noah’s cock thickened in seconds—already hard from his recent thoughts of Lara—now eager to participate.
Noah liked to watch, and he liked to play— rough . So the sight of one guy’s head between the woman’s thighs, his cheeks rubbing against her smoky hose while he gorged on a wet cunt, was bad enough. But when the other fucked her face hard enough that she choked around him, Noah had to move to better see the three of them in action.
In and out, the rough guy pushed into the whore’s mouth with eager strokes, his balls mashing against her chin with each shove forward. The woman didn’t seem to mind it much, or she was that good an actress, because she pulled his thighs toward her, encouraging his advances. She shivered and sucked harder as she made whimpering sounds hinting at a climax. The rough guy stilled and yelled out as he came, then pulled away from her. He stepped back and stood next to Noah, the pair of them keen on the outcome still pending. The man kneeling between the whore’s plump thighs reared back, mounted her, and fucked her until he too climaxed.
No condoms, no talking other than grunts and groans. A small pile of coins sat on a washstand across from the iron-post bed, and the creaking of the bedsprings told its own story. After the last man came, he pulled out, and the three lovers smiled at one another.
The ghosts of yesterday vanished until all that remained in the room were Noah, his hard-on, and the same bed soon occupied with new patrons. The scene shifted into another vision of oral sex, this one between two women totally intent on one another. Sixty-nine had become his new favorite number.
Unable to rebuild his shields until he took care of his own needs, Noah grabbed a few tissues, undid his pants, and masturbated to the hottest sex he’d seen in some time. To his annoyance, he kept imagining Lara Graham on her knees, on her back, taking a nipple or a cock between her lips. The urge to dominate Lara, to bend her to his will, tempted him to let loose the bands on his honest needs. The dark desires he normally kept secret threatened to overtake him. Lara, bound and pliant. Submissive, his to play with, his to own … The fantasy only made his rushing orgasm that much more powerful.
Though he didn’t want to be here, and he didn’t like his odd
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