"Strange Brew" (voy, Msolo, Fsolo) by Althalus

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   The air was faintly sweet with the smell of jasmine and sandalwood. 
Smoke filtered the light into clouds that scattered across the wall. 
Candles glowed faintly in the four corners, and the altar in the center of
the room was eerily bathed in shadow.  Khali moved her hands seductively
about her body, turning the scented smoke into spirit water that flowed
over her limbs and caressed her intimate places.  Dancing naked to a music
all her own, she was a vision of rapture.  The swell of her unclothed
breasts was enough to melt a heart of stone, or rather, to stiffen the
softest flaccid member.

   As her clever next-door neighbor, Jon was lucky enough to have
discovered that he could access her attic crawlspace from his own.  His sad
excuse for a landlord was a shoddy craftsman as well, and the drywall
between the attics was easily compromised by two busy hands.  Jon had been
watching Khali through a tiny hole in the ceiling for three days, and had
finally hit pay dirt.  He didn't know what was going on, but that didn't
stop his dick from standing at attention for half an hour.  The ache in his
balls was almost unpleasant, and he reached into his pants as she pranced
around in the room below him.  She was so exotic to look at - from the top
of her black-tressed head, to the tips of her smooth dark nipples, all the
way down to her dainty, red polished toenails.  An aerial view was not the
best, but it was better than nothing.  Jon would just have to cope.

   He caught his breath sharply, almost too loud, as she lay down on the
altar.  She glanced from side to side, and he hoped he hadn't spooked her.
It would be a shame to miss such a good show.  She relaxed and laid her
head on the cool marble, letting her hair spill over the stony edges like
black water.  Her splendid body was on display, much like a butterfly
pinned to a board.  Nearly swallowed by the peculiar darkness in the middle
of the room, Khali's form was still clear enough to see in explicit detail.
Her flat stomach was a haunted pool from which her full hips and thighs
swelled to golden heights; her breasts were like two moons, gazing through
the roof to chance a glimpse of their unearthly home in the sky.  Between
her legs a darkness not created by the flickering candlelight lay in wait,
inviting Jon to seek the eager wetness hidden there.  His hand was a paltry
substitute for her clinging, coercing cunt.

   Khali reached down from the altar and brought a jar sitting on the floor
up next to her body.  From it she procured some dark brittle herb which
crackled and crumbled in her hands.  She sprinkled the dry assortment over
her glowing torso, and the smell of something tangy and somehow dangerous
floated up to Jon in his secret place.  He started, wondering if this
wasn't such a great idea ...  What if he should fall through?  What laws
and lawsuits would he be subject to?  Would he lose his job?  Could this
jeopardize his career?  It was suddenly becoming too much risk for too
little enjoyment.  He hastily zipped up his jeans and braced his legs on
the main ceiling joust.  Just as he was turning from his tantalizing
portal, he thought about her lying down there - waiting to be watched,
almost certainly wanting to be watched.  It was an irresistible siren call,
that small opening into her world.  Jon returned for what he told himself
was just one last look, and was mesmerized.

   Her hands were lovers, and they smothered her delicious curves with oil.
Where the oil had come from or what it might be were of no concern to him;
his only thoughts were of her and her body.  The combined scent of the oil
and the herbs were of no consequence to him, and yet they drove him mad
with the desire to know the taste of Khali on his tongue.  His hand was
latched firmly on his shaft once again, and his swift strokes were
involuntary.

   The candlelight glinted off of her as her back arched and she rose
halfway from the altar.  She seemed to be enjoying this unendurable
torment! She squeezed her breasts and he moaned as her flesh bulged beneath
finely manicured nails.  Her legs parted, and so did her nether lips.  The
candles' pale light played along her pussy as the moisture seeped from
within.  Her nipples were studded sentinels, and they were on guard for any
arousing stimulus.  She brought her heels up by her ass, thrusting her
knees at Jon.  Her eyes were screwed shut, and her teeth were clenched as
she enacted some erotic feat in her mind.  Her hand snaked down toward her
puffy slit, and Jon felt the pressure increase.  She gasped as a red
fingernail flicked her clit.  Her head lolled back and forth, and then she
slipped two slender fingers into her cunt.  She lifted her hips up off the
marble, forcing her fingers in deeper, seeking release.

   Licking her lips, Khali mumbled something vaguely familiar to Jon; it
sounded like some kind of incantation, or a chant.  She clamped her left
hand over her breast, and then alternated between pinching her rigid nipple
and slapping the flesh around it.  Her right hand was thumping against her
pelvis with the force of her thrusts, and her face became a mask of pain
and pleasure; it was more than any man could be expected to withstand.  Jon
squeezed his rigid cockhead as his balls tightened.  His mind exploded and
a white fountain of semen spurted from him, sticking to the pink insulation
by his shoes.  He coaxed out the last little dribble of cum and let it fall
to the ceiling.  Now he wasn't sure -what- to do.


   --->To be Continued?

  
strange brew