A thick cloud of hashish smoke hung in the room, partially obscuring my girlfriend’s naked body, the scent cloying, overwhelming the senses until it began to dissipate. To either side of me, I could hear the scratchy sound of a needle as it endlessly traveled around the inside ring of July’s eponymous recording, spiraling inwards and then outwards again, masking Jenny’s soft moans. My gaze wandered over her, wanting to touch her, yet unwilling to break the spell. Purple light washed over her vulnerable flesh, illuminating and concealing, leaving her pussy lost in shadow while her petite tits, tipped with nipples hard and swollen with desire were prominently displayed. On the walls, alien landscapes of bright neon colors kissed the darkness, eyes peering out from strange shapes like psychedelic apparitions witnessing debauchery.
I tore my eyes away from her obscured sex, glancing first at Greg as he undressed, his prick springing forth like a battle flag, lurid in the semi-darkness. His smile was bright, too bright, the black light turning his teeth an impossible white. Following his gaze, I drank in Jenny’s form, admiring the tautness of her limbs, her wrists secured to the headboard with scarves, her ankles to the foot board, leaving her on display.
Another scarf, seeming black in the room, covered her eyes, leaving her in the twilight realm, unable to see either of us as she slowly writhed on the sheets with arousal, her soft moan leaving me rock hard as well as I slowly stroked my still slick prick, the smell of her sex clinging to my own nakedness like a second skin.
“Fuck me,” she slurred, the hashish filling her with lust. “Please, Kevin.”
Desperation. I’d left her on the brink of orgasm, pulling out in time to shower her tits with thick spurts of jism.
“I love you, Jenny,” I mouthed, turning my back on her and putting on Disraeli Gears.