Tales of Pleasure

"Time for a Pool Party!" the e-vite proclaimed.

In February, of all months. But once you clicked the link, it became clear that billiards, not swimming, was the star of the show—complete with a silly, Photoshopped image of cheerful pool balls.

Only Evangeline could turn her twenty-first birthday into such a whimsical affair. Her Sweet Sixteen had been a dazzling spectacle of pink and glitter—an extravagance that could be seen as either delightful or over-the-top, depending on your perspective. But I guess if you want to lure everyone out to Queens for a celebration, you have to pull out all the stops.

Not that I'm in a position to judge. Staten Island isn't exactly a beacon of prestige. Yet, in these uncertain times, none of my old friends from Forest Hills had managed to make a name for themselves on the Upper East Side or anything like that.

Life certainly has its challenges, and a friend's twenty-first birthday is worth celebrating—even if we had all been sneaking into clubs with fake IDs for a few years already.

The venue turned out to be quite impressive. The entire second floor of a spacious building was transformed into a haven of pool and ping pong tables, multiple bars, cozy seating, and massive screens. It was a refreshing change from the typical trendy club where the loud music and bustling crowd made it nearly impossible to have a decent conversation. Here, our old group could actually sit down together and catch up on each other's lives.

The most thrilling aspect of my life at that moment was undeniably Sam. With his sun-kissed blonde hair cascading over his shoulders and those classic black Levi's hugging him just right, he had my high school friends doing double takes. Some were even drooling, but the best part was that Sam's personality matched his striking looks.

I'm not referring to superficial charm, the kind any decent guy can put on. I mean genuine inner beauty, the kind where someone has real standards and lives by them. Unlike many guys I'd encountered in my youth, Sam's heart and mind are in sync. He's warm, funny, and genuinely kind, and I still can't believe I found someone so sweet and attractive.

That's the other incredible part. Beneath that polished surface, Sam is a wild animal with a vivid imagination. Whenever we're together, I can't help but feel a constant thrill. At work, I often drift off into fantasies about our last night together, what we might get up to later, or just the thought of his amazing, rock-hard body. I've never felt this happy or satisfied.

I had no idea we could reach such exhilarating heights together. People keep commenting on how great I look. If they only knew the reason behind it. At the party, after I took some time to greet everyone and grab a drink, he took my hand and gently pulled me along. I followed him through the crowd to a secluded spot at the back of the club, where he revealed a little hallway leading to a small storage room and a coat rack that seemed to be for staff use.

"This is pretty private back here," I said. He flashed me a grin. "Yep," he replied, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. "It might not be fancy, but—"

They say great minds think alike. I took his hands and guided them down to my lower belly, just brushing against my mound. I was in a mid-thigh mini and a thong, and when I pressed back against him, I could feel him getting hard in those tight jeans. He moved his hands down my thighs to the edge of my skirt, lifting it up close to my crotch while gently massaging my inner thighs.

I couldn't help but grind against him. If he wanted to bend me over and take me right there, I wouldn't have put up a fight—but Sam loved to tease. "Not yet, my eager tigress," he laughed, lifting my skirt at the back to expose my bottom and giving one cheek a playful smack. "We need to behave as good guests. Let's head back out and socialize."

With a sigh, I stepped back and adjusted my skirt. "Good guests could always sneak back here later, though," I replied.

"True enough. How about we plan for that in about thirty minutes? In the meantime, I bet I can take Anastasia in eight-ball."

"Hmm. I'm not so sure. She's got a legendary reputation."

In the lounge where our group was hanging out, Anastasia, Evangeline, and Amanda were all huddled together, giggling and linking arms. "Lynn!" Amanda shouted.

"Get over here, girl! It's time for pictures!"

Sam stepped away to take his turn at the pool table, and I made my way over to my old friends, wrapping my arm around Evy and flashing a big smile at the girl with the camera phone.

"Where have you been, huh?" Evy whispered in my ear. "And who's this guy? He's a total catch, Lynnie!"

"I know," I replied, brushing off her questions. Evy could be a bit airheaded for my liking, even though she had a good heart. If deep thoughts were cash, she'd be on a budget. Her dad's trucking business covers her expenses, which might explain why she hasn't had to think too deeply, spending her time instead on finding Mr. Right. Whatever, right?

Sam was watching us as we posed for the camera, sticking out our tongues and striking flirty poses. I winked at him, knowing he loved seeing me enjoy myself—and that he was probably keeping an eye on the clock, just like I was, counting down the minutes until our little meet-up in that back room.

Amanda and I grabbed some beers and plopped down on the couch while Sam was busy picking out a pool cue, his opponent busy racking the balls. "He's just the cutest, Lynn," Amanda said. "And the way he looks at you? It's like you're his favorite ice cream flavor."

"He definitely is my favorite flavor," I replied. "We've been dating for two months now, and honestly, it's been nothing but good times. I didn't think guys like him existed."

"Well, they didn't in high school," she pointed out. "Maybe the guys our age are finally maturing. Getting a little more seasoned."

"Like a tasty soup? Or maybe aging like fine wine?"

"Exactly! You're so lucky," she said, just as Sam leaned in for a long shot, giving us a great view of his toned backside in those snug black jeans. "I'll toast to that!" I exclaimed, clinking my beer bottle against hers, and we both burst out laughing.

About twenty minutes later, after taking down his first opponent, Sam generously let Evy take her turn. "To the birthday girl!" he announced with a flourish. I was the only one aware of his hidden agenda. His thoughts were on a different game altogether. Trying to play it cool, I excused myself from Amanda—love her to bits, but my mind had been wandering—and made my way through the crowd toward the back room.

Sam was waiting there for me, sitting on a low box. "Hi," I said, giggling a little as I sank into his lap to kiss him. "Do you think-"

"Sssh," he said. "Stand up." He turned me to face him and raised my tight skirt over my thighs and up to my waist, planting a sweet warm kiss on my panties. "I'm hungry, and the hors d'oeuvres out there just aren't doing it."

"Really..." I was trying to think of a witty comeback, but my thoughts scattered as he pulled my panties aside and sank his hot tongue into my slit, right at the top, going straight for my clit. I moaned and pulled his sweet silky head closer between my thighs, arching my back.

He could move that tongue almost like a vibrator, and I felt a gush of warm girl-juice soaking the crotch of my underwear. But as I started to grind my clit against his mouth, feeling as though I could come very soon indeed, he pulled away.

"Now, now," he said, "we still have important social duties to discharge, do we not? Your friends won't think much of me if I monopolize you this whole time." As he spoke, he slipped a finger up into my dripping vagina. I could scarcely comprehend what he was saying.

"They won't even notice," I pouted. "Besides, they adore you already." I was panting and riding his hand, and trying to twist myself down and get a chance to touch his crotch, try to get him hot enough to forget his blasted manners and take me right then and there.

He wasn't having any of it, but when he stood up, I couldn't help but notice the noticeable bulge in his jeans—definitely a sign he was into it. "Guess it's time to go soak up some more attention," he said.

Out of nowhere, we heard quick footsteps in the hallway, and a woman in a waitress outfit rushed in, heading straight for a pile of boxes at the back. She stopped dead in her tracks when she realized we were there. I was still in shock, not even bothering to fix my outfit; my skirt was hiked up, and my panties were a mess, leaving me feeling exposed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Hey, you two, this isn't a motel! Get your little butts back to the bar before I call the manager and have you kicked out!"

"Sorry," Sam replied, somehow keeping his cool while I scrambled to adjust my clothes, acutely aware of the scent lingering in the small, stuffy room. My face was burning as we hurried out and made our way down the hallway. I dashed straight to the ladies' room, ducking into a stall to catch my breath. After using the toilet, I felt a rush of heat just from the soft paper against my skin.

Our secret spot was gone. There was no way I wanted to get kicked out of Evy's birthday bash for some scandalous antics. But that didn't stop Sam from stealing glances at me from across the room or sneaking in a quick touch between my legs while pretending to hug me. I chatted, laughed, and even played a game of ping-pong (which I lost spectacularly), but my thoughts and heart were still with Sam, somewhere more private.

It felt like ages before we finally said our goodbyes and stepped out into the chilly, empty street to catch the subway. The 7 train wasn't very frequent at this hour, and we'd have to switch to the W on our way back to the ferry; by the time we made it back to Staten Island, it would be almost dawn. But the party had been a blast, and the wait for the train passed quickly as we talked about the people there.

When the subway screeched to a stop, Sam tugged me a few cars down the platform, steering clear of the one with the passed-out drunk and another with a couple likely returning from a night out like us.

"I want you all to myself," he said as we stepped into the empty car, fingers intertwined, and plopped down on a bench. That sounded perfect to me. I'd been itching to get my hands on him. I stood up and slid off my long, soft leather coat.

"Can you hold this for me?" I asked playfully, draping it over his lap and letting my hand wander down to his jeans. I found the button and popped it open, then fumbled for the zipper.

His cock was already hard inside his shorts, and as the train picked up speed, he pulled me in for a kiss, the motion of the train rocking us gently. I teased the tip of his penis with my fingers while I pulled his tongue into my mouth, swirling mine around it.

My meaning was unmistakable. He reached under the coat and unzipped his jeans further, adjusting his posture and allowing me to free his erection from his fly so that I could wrap my hand around it tight, and moaned deep in his throat when I gave it a squeeze. I'd had four beers, and was just a tiny bit relaxed, and my mouth was watering for a taste of that glorious hard rod.

I grinned at him and scooted over on the plastic bench seat so that I could lay my head on his thighs, letting him contemplate the possibilities of this while I continued to tease and toy with him with my fingers. What the heck- nobody was going to interrupt us this late at night, I thought.

I looked up into Sam's eyes and licked my lips, then buried my head under my coat and found the tip of his cock with my lips. I sucked it luxuriously, tenderly, and was rewarded by hearing him groan, feeling his hips shift. The train rocked gently, offering me a counterpoint rhythm, and his satiny hardness felt like a caress against my lips and tongue.

I love taking him into my mouth, and it shows. He can feel it. I was gobbling him wetly and eagerly when we felt the train begin to brake, and instead of sitting up and composing myself or pretending to be asleep in his lap, I took him deep into my throat and held him there, his hips buckling helplessly.

The train came to an abrupt halt, and the doors swung open. I found myself pinned, my face pressed against him, my head tucked under his leather jacket. Just then, he grabbed my shoulder to keep me in place. To my dismay, I heard the sound of footsteps and the raucous laughter of what seemed like a group of fraternity guys stepping into the car.

I realized I had to shift my head a bit to catch my breath. Might as well make the most of it. I slowly pulled back, teasingly working my tongue around him, and I could feel him shudder, even though he was clearly in shock.

Fortunately, the voices of the guys started to fade; I couldn't see them, but I figured they had moved to the other end of the train. Sitting up now would definitely attract attention, so I focused on giving Sam some discreet attention beneath the cover of his coat. His attempts to hush me and keep me still were half-hearted at best.

What if these guys were riding all the way to our stop? How on earth would we manage to slip away without making it obvious what we were up to? Not that they seemed like the type to do anything but mock us if they figured it out, but that was a thought I really didn't want to entertain.

But somehow the precarious situation didn't bother me.

Bother me? If anything, it was tripling the agitated tingle I always got in my pussy when Sam's cock was in my mouth. The train slowed again; thankfully, when the doors slid open, I heard the mob depart.

"Git some, brotha!" one yelled back from the platform, causing Sam to collapse laughing when the door closed again. Apparently they hadn't been as drunkenly oblivious as I'd thought.

We reached our stop, so I took a breath and let Sam adjust his clothes. We held hands casually for the rest of the brief ride, switched trains, and mostly kept it together during the twenty minutes on the connecting train—though I say mostly because Sam was whispering all sorts of things he wanted to do to me when we got the chance, which made me squirm a little on the hard plastic seat.

By the time we arrived at the shiny ferry terminal with its glass and neon lights, I was lost in a haze of eager anticipation. My nipples were sensitive, pressing against the satin of my bra, and my thong was definitely feeling the effects of the moment. I was buzzing all over; it felt like electricity was coursing through me, and I let Sam lead us onto the grand ferry, up the gangway to the outdoor seats. A few weary passengers joined us, but no one else ventured to the upper deck.

I leaned over the railing, taking in the cityscape. New York really does keep going, and the view was mesmerizing, with all those lights and the mix of activities happening in the late hours.

As the ferry started to move away from the dock, I turned to share my thoughts with Sam, but before I could say anything, he stepped up behind me. It was late winter, and the breeze off the water was brisk—my leather coat was snug around me—but his body felt warm against mine. He wrapped his arms around me and slipped his hands under my coat, teasing my breasts.

"I think we're a lot more private here than we were on that train," he said. "Why don't you come sit with me, beautiful?" He guided me to the bright orange metal bench, and to my surprise, I watched him quickly unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down just enough for his hard cock to stand out in the cool night air.

"Panties off," he said. "Right now."

I know I blushed, even alone with him on the after-midnight water. But I stood, somewhat shaky, and slid my tight, soaked thong panties over my hips. They fell in a pool round my ankles. Sam raised my skirt and admired my pussy, framed as it was in thigh-high nylons and garter belt, just as he most preferred.

"Sit on me," he said hoarsely. "Hurry."

I turned to face the railing and straddled his lap. He reached down to steady his ardent rod, making sure the head was guided straight to the sweetest, wettest spot between my pussy lips, and we both groaned deep in our throats as I slid down and engulfed the whole length of him.

He held my hips and massaged the knotted bud of my clit in front as I writhed on his lap and tried hard not to scream. The engines of the big boat throbbed like a giant's heartbeat, and we could hear the water churning and rushing along her flanks. Relentlessly, Sam fondled me with his expert fingers.

I threw my head back and gave myself up to the sensation, rocking my hips, squeezing his cock with my inner muscles as I felt an orgasm approach.

Suddenly there were footsteps on the gangway. We stilled our movements like a rabbit in the headlights of a semi truck, but we must have looked shocked. "Eh-eh-eh," said the homeless looking elderly man, shaking his finger at us like a pet owner admonishing a naughty cat before turning to stumble back down the stairs.

"Yipes," I whispered. "Twice?"

"Yipes nothin," Sam whispered in my ear. Grasping my hips firmly, he impaled my bottom on his lap, unable to wait any longer for some real friction. I caught his rhythm and bounced on him, twisting; my own fingers were busy on my clit now. I couldn't help myself. His cock felt huge buried to the hilt in my cunt. I could see the New York skyline glimmering farther and farther off as Sam slid me up and down on his pole, now slippery with my juices. I didn't know what we'd do if someone else came, for our frenzy would probably be impossible to stop. We could be arrested.

Handcuffed even.

Jailed.

The cops don't take bad behavior on the ferry lightly.

But it hardly seemed to matter. The connection between us, all fire and suction, was the only thing that mattered. Suddenly my clit rose up hard and blossomed and my pussy convulsed wildly as waves of pleasure shot through every nerve. Sam groaned helplessly and pulled me down hard on his lap as his penis exploded inside of me, shooting an overdue load of hot spunk into my deepest center.

We collapsed together, feeling the cold ocean air for the first time. It felt great on our sweaty faces. The Island would be growing near soon and we'd have to make ourselves presentable to debark, But for the moment, it was enough to cuddle this way, my head on Sam's shoulder, the massive ship chugging through the night.