The Stud Palace Read Online Free PDF

warm, juicy cunt. I moan again as she thrusts her way in. She reaches underneath me, cups my ass. My body tenses and I arch my back as she stretches and fills me up. She is gentle at first, moving slowly in and out of me, as if she’s being careful not to hurt me, then thrusts harder and faster. She fucks me deep and oh, so good. I squeal with pleasure as she impales me with her strap-on, rock against her, meeting her hungry thrusts, wetting her hard cock with my juices.
    “This pussy’s mine now, baby,” she says. I’m not sure if it is a comment or a question, but I respond, moaning, “Yessssss. It’s all yours. Oh, yessssss . . . fuck me . . . ooooh, ooooh . . . fuck meeeee . . .”
    “Welcome to The Stud Palace,” she whispers in between kisses, plunging in and out of me, hitting my spot with each thrust. I cum over and over and over.
    I close my eyes and hold my breath as my body squirms. My toes curl. My whole body is on fire as another wave of pleasure washes over me. Blood races to my head. The room begins to spin as colors of the rainbow dance behind my lids. I replay Sheena’s words in my head. “ And when you leave up out of here, nothing about you will ever be the same. Nothing about you will ever be the same . . .”
    And she’s right. With each deep stroke being delivered to my pussy, I know without a doubt that I’ll be back every chance I get. I bite down on my bottom lip, then arch my back and let out a piercing moan. “Ohhhhh, yessssssssss . . . mmmmm . . . I’m cum ing !”
    ***
    Three weeks later, with my new laminated membership card tucked in my clutch, I slip out of my apartment—scantily dressed in an ultra-short black dress with a cutout back and plunging V-neckline and a pair of black four-inch Jason Wu lace-up sandals—and creep my way back to The Stud Palace—the place where seduction and lust opened up a whole new world of being for me. The place where being fucked slow and deep by a stud unleashed a burning desire within me, unlocked inhibitions I’d kept repressed for far too long.
    This time . . . alone.
    Perched up on a leather stool in the section of the club called the CockTail Lounge. A decadent oasis, hidden behind thick mahogany doors, which is located on the top floor down a long dimly lit corridor. Upon entrance through the double doors, you ascend a flight of winding stairs onto the roof with its retractable glass ceiling, heated floors, and breathtaking view of New York City.
    Gas-lit Tiki torches and flickering candles of enormous sizes and varying heights add to the seductive ambiance and décor. There’s a gorgeous wraparound bar—where I’m sitting—in the middle of the stunning space with private leather booths along the glass walls and plush purple leather sofas and overstuffed leather chairs situated throughout the area. Huge go-go cages sit atop massive speakers, displaying the most succulent pieces of pelvis-thrusting eye-candy clad in wife beaters, colorful boxer briefs, and Timberland boots.
    The CockTail Lounge is where discreet, horny women teetering on whoredom and tossing their inhibitions to the wind, releasing their inner freaks, like myself, can fulfill their carnal desires by selecting the stud of their choice off of ornate purple and red menus, along with any combination of drinks of their liking. There’s a picture beside each studs’ name, along with their stats: age, height, weight, nationality, and turn-ons. Delicious boi treats such as: Cocoa Bombshell, The Smack Down, Caribbean Breeze, Chocolate Pleasure, Cream de Cocoa, Dred Delight, The Red Dragon, Chocolate Thunder, The Incredible Hunk, King Kong, Stud Daddy, Whip Appeal, G-Spot, The Pussy Pleaser, and a list of others are all available for one’s decadent pleasures.
    Tonight, I am feeling slutty and bold, sipping on my second Pussy Pleaser—a mixture of Absolut vodka, blue Curacao, and grenadine with splashes of pineapple and cranberry juices.
    I slowly