Anna's Next Husband

Paul turned up the collar of his light jacket and stuck his hands in its pockets to ward off the chill of the bitter wind that had come with the late November dusk. This part of the city was unknown to him. He had been walking the streets aimlessly since mid-afternoon trying to recover after having his heart and dreams shattered.

The day had been warm and sunny earlier on and on impulse he had skipped his afternoon architecture class at the university intending a surprise visit with his fiance Kathy, hoping the balmy weather might have put her in the mood for a quickie. The door of her apartment on the second floor was open. He entered and heard a rhythmic thumping from the direction of the bedroom. The door was closed but when he approached he heard the screeches and wails of a woman in the throes of pain or pleasure. Panic took him. Was Kathy being raped? He flung the door open looked over the foot of the bed to see his prim and proper young blonde fiance naked, facing him, straddling the groin of a naked man lying on his back. She was anally impaled on his long thick cock, riding it hard and loving it, grimacing and squealing, eyes glazed over in her wanton lust.

Paul stood gaping, horrified. The man let out a lusty grunt of satisfaction and Kathy answered with her own shriek of orgasmic delight. His cock slipped loose from her tight pocket and a creamy fountain of cum spurted up across her belly and breasts. Inevitably her eyes cleared and fell on Paul, standing there open mouthed. She didn't say a word, just smirked, took the ring from her finger and tossed it in Paul's face. The man raised his head and peered around Kathy to look at him and grinned. It was Rex Richter, quarterback of the university football team, unregenerate sexist, suspected serial date rapist. He was often the subject of Kathy's "feminist" rants.

Words seemed pointless. He backed out of the room and fled, down the stairs, out into the street and just started walking. Full darkness had set in. The nip in the air cleared his mind a bit and he realized he was not only cold but famished and most of all in need of a stiff drink. He looked around. Nothing but dark residential streets. He was lost. His hand went to the pocket where he kept his smartphone to find it empty. Must have left it in the car. He thought of perhaps knocking on the door of one of the houses to ask directions but didn't want the embarrassment or any trouble. Nothing to do but walk on.

He picked a direction at random, looking left and right at each intersection. After several blocks he looked to his right and about a block down the street dead ended and there was a what looked like a restaurant or bar, at least there was a wooden sign out front lit from above. It was an old stone building with a few stone steps leading up to a heavy wooden iron bound door. As he approached he could see the sign said "Lilith's"and in smaller lettering below "Steaks, Seafood, Spirits, Sisterhood". He puzzled a bit over the last word but shrugged and climbed the stairs, opened the door and entered. In his hunger and thirst he hadn't noticed the small sign next to the door saying "Private. Members Only."

He was in a bar room. Off to the right was a bar, to his left were a few tables and a hallway leading to the restrooms. Straight ahead was a wide opening in a stone wall and he saw tables and chairs, a restaurant obviously. On its back wall was a large fireplace burning brightly serving as muted lighting for the room along with candles in sconces along the walls. A few tables were occupied, all by women, dressed in leather or furs. The bar to his right was L shaped and ended in a dark corner along the wall that bounded the restaurant. It was unoccupied. That seemed perfect for a man in his straits and he headed for that corner taking the last stool. There was nobody behind the bar at first but then a tall young woman with short blonde hair entered through a door in the back bar. She glanced his way and a frown crossed her face as she approached him, pointing toward the door.

"This is a private club mister and I'll have to ask you to..."

"It's OK Elsa, he's with me. I invited him earlier today. Let him have whatever he likes on my tab."

The voice came from behind him, a woman's voice, low pitched, sultry with an accent he thought must be Russian.

The bartender's expression changed instantly to one of respect as her eyes turned to the woman who had spoken.

"Of course Ms. Rostova. I'm so sorry. It seemed like he had wandered in uninvited."

Paul spun around and felt a warm flush and a fluttering of his heart when he saw the woman who stood there. He looked up into a face of regal arrogance, strong chin, wide full lips, perfect nose, large wide set dark eyes under heavy arching bows, high forehead. A cascade of chestnut hair fell over the shoulders of the long sable coat she wore. She was tall, taller than his own six foot and one even without the tall black stiletto heeled boots she wore. He guessed she was somewhere in her early forties, mature yet youthful, in the fullest flowering of her womanhood.

But his initial shock wore off after a moment and her turned away. Women weren't high on his list of favorites just then and he felt annoyed at having strayed in to a den full of them. But the memory of the cold outside and his thirst for a strong one took hold and he took advantage of the offer from his new benefactress and ordered a double scotch straight up. When it was served to him he tossed it down at a gulp, asked for another, gulped the next one too and held out his glass again.

He heard the stool next to him scrape on the floor as it was moved and from the corner of his eye saw the woman settle into it.

"Having a bad day are we now? That whiskey will have you on the floor before I even get a chance to know your name. I think some wine would be better. It will soothe your spirits without putting you on your back."

She held up her hand to stop the bartender from serving his third whisky and asked for a bottle of Merlot and two glasses instead. Paul sat with his face averted leaning on the bar, stubborn in refusal to acknowledge her even after her kindness.

"Please. My name is Anna. I think you owe me at least a bit of courtesy. You could be back out in the cold by now instead of warming yourself with good whisky."

A hand fell on his shoulder, a gentle touch but one that made it clear there would be no relenting until she had her way.

"It's clear someone has hurt you, a woman no doubt. Please don't tar us all with the same brush."

Her low soothing tone of voice softened him a bit and then he felt the tip of her fingernail under his chin. He allowed her to raise his head and turn it, compelled by a will he could tell was much stronger than his own. He found himself with chin perched on the tip of her index finger looking into knowing brown eyes bottomless in their depth.

"That's better. Now your name please."

He stammered an introduction as the whisky started taking hold, softening him, making tears come.

"Now tell me, please, what happened?"

He blurted out the story of his sad day choking back sobs while glancing up occasionally into eyes soft with compassion. Then he set his jaw and passed his sleeve across his eyes to wipe away the tears.

"Damn! You must think I'm such a crybaby!"

"I think you're a very attractive and sexy man who's not afraid to show his feelings. There's no shame in being sensitive dear. The shallow, fickle little slut was unworthy of you."

She reached out a hand to touch his cheek. "There's another kind of woman Paul, a kind that knows how to appreciate a man like you. You've just met one and she's dying to know you better. Come along. Let's get a table. I'm famished myself and if I don't get some food in you soon I'll have to carry you home with me."

Hearing those words about himself from this stunning beauty who had appeared in his life from the blue made him shed his sorrow and loneliness and follow her into the restaurant walking on air.

Anna had been in the restroom when Paul walked into the bar and came out just in time to see him slip into the shadows of the corner. But she could see him clearly enough that he piqued her interest, a fine looking young man, sandy-haired trim and fit, manly but with an air of sensitivity. And there was a subtle "something" about him, a glow. She was smitten. She couldn't be sure but her feeling was strong. Divine Mother willing he might just be her next husband. She was married already, for seven years and for the third time, and happy in the way only a woman of her kind could be but that predatory instinct was always there. Here was a young man who might bring new excitement into her life. He sparked a craving for more and better always just below the surface even in the midst of her day to day contentment. It seemed an omen that he had walked into the private retreat of her an her sisters seemingly out of nowhere. She had stalked toward him, a tigress on the hunt.

They reached the table, one in the corner of the room and cloaked in semi-darkness, lit by only three candles, and sat down. A waitress came and Anna ordered the same thing for both of them without even consulting him, rare porterhouse steaks baked potatoes, salad and more wine. He wondered why she kept her fur coat on but noticed the old stone building was a bit chilly and drafty.

She filled her glass with wine and he held his out to her.

"No Paul. Wait awhile, until our food comes at least. I can tell that whisky has taken its toll already and there's so much more I want to know about you. Tell me more about yourself."

He looked into those big eyes gazing at him as if in rapt attention and soon he was pouring out everything, rambling. She took the role of perfect listener, keeping eye contact, nodding, sometimes asking questions or breaking out in a lusty laugh at his dry witticisms. All the while his eyes were riveted on her and he mentally pinched himself over and over wondering if could really be true that this goddess-like creature could find him so interesting.

Dinner arrived and she let him have wine. He fell to, ravenous, even though the steak was more rare and bloody than he was used to. Ignoring her at first but then catching himself, not wanting to seem rude, he looked up to see her lost in her own private feast, a carnivorous gleam in her eye, not a hint of daintiness. Bloody juice ran down her chin. She saw him watching, giggled, blushed and wiped it away but kept eating. Soon both plates were pushed away and they settled back in their chairs. They finished off the wine while Paul talked on and Anna politely fended of any questions about herself. Then she glanced at the big clock hanging above the fireplace.

"My how time flies. We really should be going."

She took a phone out of her coat pocket and sent a quick text. An answer came in just a moment.

"Come along Paul, the car is waiting out front."

She stood up and headed toward the door as if taking for granted he would follow. Paul looked at the clock himself and saw it was about 10:00. It seemed just minutes ago that he had first looked into Anna's eyes yet really several hours had passed.

"But where are we going? I should probably be heading home."

"We're going to my house silly, where do you think? It's not often I meet a delightful young man like you and I want us to spend some time in a more private place."

"Oh! Well...sure. I guess. Why not?" He followed her to the door like a lost puppy.

As Anna led Paul through the room she glanced from side to side catching the eyes of the women sitting at the other tables. There were subtle winks, thumbs up signs and a few envious glares.

Paul rushed ahead to open the front door for Anna. A black limo waited out front. The door opened automatically and they stepped into the rich leather interior and took seats facing each other. The door closed. Black curtains covered the windows making it impossible to see outside.

"Home Emma," Anna said and the car sped off. Paul could only guess where they were going and after a few turns and curves gave up trying. In perhaps twenty minutes the car made a right turn and slowed down. He could hear a garage door opening.

The car door opened and they disembarked into a garage. He followed Anna up a few steps to the door, down a long hallway and through another door that led into a breathtaking room with high beamed ceiling, rich dark woodwork and furnishings and elegant leather chairs and sofa arranged around a fireplace. A fire burned brightly, the room's only light.

He followed her across the room toward the fireplace. Two overstuffed armchairs sat facing each other with the sofa forming the base of a U-shape. Anna invited him to sit in one of the chairs. He settled in and watched her as she unbuttoned her coat and tossed it on the sofa then gasped and stared open-mouthed. She was naked under the coat except for the black boots that came to mid thigh. He fidgeted, looking away then looking back, finally unable to do anything but gape at the amazon goddess that stood before him. Her amazon warrior's body put to scorn all skinny super models. She posed herself with chin high, hands on hips, broad shoulders back, flaunting her firm heavy breasts. Her waist tapered deeply then flared out into the broad lovely curvature of her hips. Beneath her firm belly and framed by her comely thighs was a dense triangular thicket matching the color of her other hair. She yawned, stretched, casually scratched at her bush and then caught Paul's eye as he sat there staring, holding his jacket across his lap to cover the bulge in his pants.

"I hate clothes and I try to be naked as much as possible. I don't think it's entirely fair for you to be sitting there with your clothes on while I'm parading my own flesh in front of you. And don't be ashamed of your erection. I would rather expect you to have one. I would be insulted if you didn't. Come on! Strip for me!" He hesitated. "Now Paul!"

His shaking hands went to the buttons of his shirt, driven by another will. He tossed the shirt aside, kicked off his shoes, slipped from his socks and dropped his pants around his ankles. That left him standing there in his white briefs, his erection stretching them nearly to the tearing point. She laughed but then gave him an impatient glare and soon he stood there naked and red faced, a rock hard erection jutting out and up.

Anna laughed and clapped her hands. "My, that is some erection. I'm flattered. Now come over here and help me out of my boots."

He stepped toward her across the space between them and when he was within her reach she pushed him to his knees. Her bush was just in front of his face. Whiffs of her animal perfume wafted over his nostrils. The boots had zippers down their sides. With fumbling hands he unzipped them and helped her step out of them. She sat back in her chair and settled in with legs slightly apart giving him just a glimpse of her cunt as he knelt before her. His eyes were riveted there. Seemingly just to torment him Anna asked him a few more banal questions about himself while casually shifting positions, giving him a lewd display. Most of his answers to her questions tailed off in mid-sentence and he just kept staring.

"Sorry Paul. Silly me. Sometimes I just beat around the bush as they say." She chuckled. "If you want a better look at me you should come closer."

He needed no encouragement. Knee walking forward, shaking, he came within her reach. She took a gentle grip on a lock of his hair and pulled him in closer yet, just inches away. Her scent hung heavy in the small space between them.

"You like it?"

"It's beautiful!"

"Don't be shy. Taste me!" He leaned in, tentative at first, extending his tongue, giving one small lapping stroke from bottom to top. Taste and scent dizzied him and he pressed in deep, burying his face in her wetness laving his tongue about, drinking it in. Some faint buried memory seemed to tell him what to do. He worked his tongue about, exploring, seeking, probing deep in her vagina eliciting a gasp of surprise. Anna moaned in growing pleasure, rolling her hips, passing her lushness over his face again and again, guiding him to the places that brought delight. Her body tingled and she felt the soft tissues of her pussy swell. Amazement filled her at the orgasm she felt welling up so soon under the tongue of this untutored young thing.

"Goddess! What a tongue! He gets in so deep! And how can he know so much?" she wondered silently. "Is he just a natural?"

It didn't take long. Wordlessly, she urged him to linger in her vagina for awhile, probing, tongue fucking her until she was ready. With a tug on his ears she brought him up to where her hot pink button awaited the attentions of his slithering tongue. Some long seconds later a warm surge of delight coursed through the whole of her body and she shuddered and convulsed through an exquisite climax ending with a deep sigh and a sweet blanking out into unconsciousness.

When Anna came and went limp Paul laid his head across her hairy mount and waited, not sure what to do next. Anna roused herself from her pleasant stupor and took his face between her hands, holding it close to hers.

"You were wonderful Paul!" She reached down and took his cock in hand, stroking it softly. "You should come too now. You've earned it darling!"

Taking that as his cue Paul surged forward and wrapped his arms around her pressing her against the back of the chair while driving his cock up between her legs trying to enter her. He was resisted with a strength that shocked him and found himself pushed backward hard, getting a harsh slap across the face before he reeled to the floor onto his knees.

He held a hand across his cheek until the pain subsided, just stared at the floor for awhile in hurt bewilderment. Timorously, he looked up at her seeing anger. But her face softened when she sensed his pain and confusion.

"I'm sorry I hit you Paul but I had to make things clear. You will come but we we won't be doing it that way. Perhaps some day that will happen but that's a long story and for another time."

She pointed across the room toward a door.

"Go in the bathroom and get a towel, one of the big ones."

He complied though baffled, making his way to the bathroom, rummaging through the linen closet until he found a broad, burgundy towel. She had him spread the towel out on the floor in front of her with it's length stretching out between her feet and where he knelt on the floor. He looked at her, expression quizzical.

"Use your hand Paul. You know how to do it. All men do."

He blushed deep red, reluctant and looked to her face to see an impatient glower. But then she thought better of it and her expression turned to one of flirtation. She posed herself provocatively, fondling herself shamelessly, breasts and pussy. It dawned on him that she was trying to help, trying to make him unable to resist his right hand's impulse to grab his cock and finish it. He yielded with a sigh, taking his shaft in hand, stroking along its length. He felt embarrassed at first, not wanting to let on how often he had done this and how well he knew how to do it. But in the end there was no stopping nature from taking its course. Anna's lewd posturing closed the deal. He felt an extra hardening of his pole and a welling up in his balls. The first spurt came with a wave of sharp pleasure. It flew across the length of the towel and splattered over Anna's feet. A second one, even stronger, hit her shins and dribbled downward. A third and final one, strongest of all, arched through the air and landed in a gob squarely on her bush. She burst out in a gale of bawdy laughter, slapping the arms of the chair, unable to contain herself. Paul slumped forward, limp and spent, catching himself on his hands feeling wilted and shamed.