Collected Stories

His Return by J.D. Coltrane

Genesis 6: 2 – "The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were fair; and they took to wife such of them as they chose."

Michael, a son of God, an angel, stood alone in the dark on 42nd Street. He raised his face to the sky and smiled to the moon. It was good to be back, he told himself, it’s been too long, way too long.

*****

Cindi enjoyed dancing in the dim bar without panties under a short skirt. She knew it drove her husband crazy, but he was adjusting. The two of them moved across the floor entwined, lips often pressed together, tongues often dueling, his hands often on her ass, her hands often on his cock.

She knew many of the people in the bar were watching. She also knew that their watching added a thrill to it all for her. And she liked the thrill. There was a moment when they had been dancing when she knew her ass was visible in the bar, her skirt up high enough, its hem nearly to the top of her ass. She wondered if they had seen her pussy then. She didn’t know but she couldn’t help wondering. She was so wet then, her lips shaved and smooth and thick and swollen.

This night was her night, she knew. She knew because she had made it her night. She had taken her husband to a place inside her that wanted expression, wanted to be let loose. He had to see, had to share, he had to come to understand.

Cindi and her husband walked off the dance floor hand-in-hand as the band settled into another break. A tall man was standing by the bar near where Cindi had left her drink. His eyes held her, penetrated her, took her, all in an instant.

"Hi," she said meekly as her husband stood to the side.

"Hello," the tall man smiled back, "I am Michael."

Cindi had never felt as she did standing there looking up at Michael. His face was strong but handsome and serene; his eyes were like none she had ever seen.

"Dance with me," he told her as he extended his hand to her. It was not a question nor a command, simply a statement of what would surely happen.

Cindi took his hand and walked with him to the dance floor, no, she didn’t walk with him, she glided onto the floor with him. There was no band but there was suddenly music. Melissa Ethridge’s I Am the Only One broke into the room, filling it, the beat driving Cindi’s heart and body.

In an instant Cindi was in Michael’s arms and they were dancing body against body with every eye in the bar upon them. Cindi had never danced as Michael danced. The feel of the dance was raw but yet smooth, smooth but certainly intense, wonderfully intense. Incredibly intense. Michael’s hands held her body while they moved all over her, feeling her, caressing her, testing her. His hips were locked to hers, his cock hard inside his pants, hard and pressed against her abdomen, hard and extremely desirable.

In another time and another place Cindi would have been surprised when he began to undress her, but in this time, in that moment, it seemed right and good and perfect. He had turned her in his arms, his cock thrusting against her ass then, his hands worked smoothly on the buttons of her blouse. The blouse was quickly open and gone from her, leaving her in her thin black bra and short black skirt with nothing underneath. She danced, grinding herself into him as his hands freed her breasts from the bra and cupped them to show the people watching. His fingers twisted her nipples, pulling them for a beat of the music before his palms flattened her breasts and moving in circles to the beat.

His hands left her breasts to find the zipper securing her skirt. Cindi cupped her breasts with her hands just as Michael had done, letting everyone watch her, letting everyone see how her hands fit the swell so perfectly. Michael finished unzipping the skirt and began seductively pushing it down her hips as he danced behind her. Cindi’s hips moved and swayed as the skirt slipped away and fell to the floor. She stepped out of the skirt and danced into a turn, moving back from Michael, hoping what he had already begun would happen. She danced naked and untouched as she watched him undress.

He was beautiful, she decided. His body was perfect. And he was naked, dancing in front of her, holding her eyes with his, watching her eyes drift down to watch his cock move as he moved, watching his cock dance as it grew harder and bigger.

She knew then what was to happen, what they would do, what she would do, and she wanted it, all of it. And Michael knew she would get it.

Cindi danced closer to Michael as she watched his smile deepen. She turned and let her ass find his cock, let her ass cheeks play over the tip, let the crack of her ass catch and tease him, feeling the wet pre-cum on her skin, her ass, wet as a lover’s kiss, wet, thick, hot.

Michael’s left hand moved down between her spread legs and lifted her left leg. The people at the bar watched them, watched Cindi’s legs spread, watched her pussy open as a wet flower, watched Michael’s cock appear from behind her, watched the head of his cock nuzzle her lips open, watched her pussy take the head of his cock, and watched his cock disappear inside her there on the dance floor with music bathing them, driving them.

Michael held her effortlessly as he fucked her. She felt herself light in his hands, his arms, light as she was skewered on his cock, filled by him, taken by him for all to see. The music was different then, unrecognizable, unknown. It was the music of lust and passion, the music of fucking and being fucked. It was the wet music of her pussy. It was the hard slap of their skin, his skin on her ass, the beat of lovers.

She felt the eyes of the crowd all over her. The eyes were everywhere, unfocused but white hot on her skin. And she knew what they saw. She saw it all, too, there in the mirror behind the bar. She felt and saw it all, both. She felt Michael’s cock. She saw Michael’s cock. She felt him fucking her; she saw him fucking her. And she watched them watching, felt them all watching.

She came but it was indistinct, merged with the experience as if it all was one huge continuous orgasm. And Michael came without warning, withdrawing his cock and letting his seed splash onto her pussy and dance floor.

The dance was ended and the music gone. The bar was as it was, filled with watchers attending to a naked woman and a naked man holding each other as spent lovers do.

It was Cindi who broke the embrace, wanting to search for the eyes of her husband in the crowd. She found him and saw him smiling. She smiled back and then realized she was alone on the dance floor. Michael was gone. He was gone but his cum was still dripping from her body. His cum grew cool on her skin as she walked to the bar to find her clothes and her husband.