Dial a Stud: Dante's Story by J. A Melville, Bianca Eberle Page B
Authors: J. A Melville, Bianca Eberle
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robe on over my corset, and tied the belt as firmly around my waist as I could.
A quick glance at the clock showed, I had just ten short minutes, assuming they were on time of course. My heart began to gallop in my chest as my anxiety rose. I couldn’t even breathe properly. I was going into full on panic mode.
Suddenly I couldn’t remember why I was doing this. Why this had seemed like a good idea. I swear I managed to run through every possible emotion before I mentally slapped myself.
Glaring at my image in the mirror, I stared into my eyes reflected back at me. “Live a little, live a lot, fuck a lot, have some fun, and grow some fucking balls.” I told myself, and my own personal pep talk seemed to work. I instantly felt calmer. I could do this.
I quickly brushed my hair, fluffing the soft brown waves over my shoulders. Under the light, there were strands that glinted, with a reddish hue amongst the brown. My hair was another one of my better features, and men seemed to like it. Well, they liked to tug on it when I was sucking on their cocks, or they liked to see it wrapped around their cocks on occasion.
Once I was satisfied with how it looked, and overall I guess I was projecting about as much sexy and seductive as I, not so graceful Grace could, I slipped on a pair of strappy black heels.
When I looked in the mirror again, I could see the tension on my face. Hell, I was beyond tension, I was shitting myself. I should be happy, but I was too busy, trying not to have a panic attack right now. Hopefully these studs were good at their jobs, because then I’d be an ecstatically happy Grace, and I so badly wanted to be a happy Grace.
I was down to a few minutes now, which just gave me time to dash to the kitchen. I grabbed the wine bottle and furtively looked around the room, as if expecting to be caught in the act. Rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, I raised the bottle to my lips, and had just gulped down a couple of what I hoped would be calming mouthfuls, when I heard the doorbell. Fuck, it was show time.
I quickly put the wine away, dabbed at my lips to remove any drops clinging to my lipstick, fluffed my hair, yet again and on shaky legs, walked to the front door.
I don’t know what I expected when I opened the door. I had no idea what these studs would look like. If they would come in suits, if they would be dressed in robes, hell, I had no idea. The only thing I knew for sure; was that they would be wearing masks.
The first thing I noticed, when I opened my door, to the two men who stood under the dim lighting of my front verandah light, was that they were seriously tall.
At this stage, I had no idea just how tall because I was having trouble raising my eyes beyond a pair of very strong looking thighs before me. They were covered in snug fitting black jeans and held in place by a broad black belt.
I wasn’t so timid, that I didn’t take the time, for my eyes to register a nice sized bulge, in those black jeans, which certainly showed a lot of promise, of what was to come. That made me blanch slightly, when I realised one of those cocks had to make it, into unchartered territory, and that was my ass. I made a mental note to check them out later. He with the smaller dick would win the game of ‘Who’s going up Gracie’s ass?’
Slowly I raised my eyes over a flat stomach, broad chest and a lot of muscles. They were covered by a black t-shirt, which was a crime in itself. A chest like that should never be covered. Hell, this man had a chest on him, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I hadn’t seen a chest like that in real, ever.
I kept going up a l deeply tanned neck, a chin with that few day’s growth kind of thing happening, surprisingly beautiful lips for a man, a straight nose that clearly had never been broken and then, the mask.
The mask was a surprise. I felt like I was trapped in the old movie my mother used to watch years ago. Zorro, since this stud’s mask was very Zorro
A quick glance at the clock showed, I had just ten short minutes, assuming they were on time of course. My heart began to gallop in my chest as my anxiety rose. I couldn’t even breathe properly. I was going into full on panic mode.
Suddenly I couldn’t remember why I was doing this. Why this had seemed like a good idea. I swear I managed to run through every possible emotion before I mentally slapped myself.
Glaring at my image in the mirror, I stared into my eyes reflected back at me. “Live a little, live a lot, fuck a lot, have some fun, and grow some fucking balls.” I told myself, and my own personal pep talk seemed to work. I instantly felt calmer. I could do this.
I quickly brushed my hair, fluffing the soft brown waves over my shoulders. Under the light, there were strands that glinted, with a reddish hue amongst the brown. My hair was another one of my better features, and men seemed to like it. Well, they liked to tug on it when I was sucking on their cocks, or they liked to see it wrapped around their cocks on occasion.
Once I was satisfied with how it looked, and overall I guess I was projecting about as much sexy and seductive as I, not so graceful Grace could, I slipped on a pair of strappy black heels.
When I looked in the mirror again, I could see the tension on my face. Hell, I was beyond tension, I was shitting myself. I should be happy, but I was too busy, trying not to have a panic attack right now. Hopefully these studs were good at their jobs, because then I’d be an ecstatically happy Grace, and I so badly wanted to be a happy Grace.
I was down to a few minutes now, which just gave me time to dash to the kitchen. I grabbed the wine bottle and furtively looked around the room, as if expecting to be caught in the act. Rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, I raised the bottle to my lips, and had just gulped down a couple of what I hoped would be calming mouthfuls, when I heard the doorbell. Fuck, it was show time.
I quickly put the wine away, dabbed at my lips to remove any drops clinging to my lipstick, fluffed my hair, yet again and on shaky legs, walked to the front door.
I don’t know what I expected when I opened the door. I had no idea what these studs would look like. If they would come in suits, if they would be dressed in robes, hell, I had no idea. The only thing I knew for sure; was that they would be wearing masks.
The first thing I noticed, when I opened my door, to the two men who stood under the dim lighting of my front verandah light, was that they were seriously tall.
At this stage, I had no idea just how tall because I was having trouble raising my eyes beyond a pair of very strong looking thighs before me. They were covered in snug fitting black jeans and held in place by a broad black belt.
I wasn’t so timid, that I didn’t take the time, for my eyes to register a nice sized bulge, in those black jeans, which certainly showed a lot of promise, of what was to come. That made me blanch slightly, when I realised one of those cocks had to make it, into unchartered territory, and that was my ass. I made a mental note to check them out later. He with the smaller dick would win the game of ‘Who’s going up Gracie’s ass?’
Slowly I raised my eyes over a flat stomach, broad chest and a lot of muscles. They were covered by a black t-shirt, which was a crime in itself. A chest like that should never be covered. Hell, this man had a chest on him, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I hadn’t seen a chest like that in real, ever.
I kept going up a l deeply tanned neck, a chin with that few day’s growth kind of thing happening, surprisingly beautiful lips for a man, a straight nose that clearly had never been broken and then, the mask.
The mask was a surprise. I felt like I was trapped in the old movie my mother used to watch years ago. Zorro, since this stud’s mask was very Zorro
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