Though she was blackmailing him, he was still ashamed of what he was doing, despite a small, reptilian part of his brain screaming to rip the rest of her clothes off.Her fingers still curled around his hardness, she looked up at him, moaned, and said, “Bedroom. Now. I can’t wait to have this inside me.”A flash of inspiration caused him to seek another escape route by saying, “I don’t have any condoms.”She tugged on his engorged member, forcing him to walk with her toward the hall. “Good,” she said, dashing yet another fleeting hope.She released him after a couple of steps, and he followed her to his bedroom in a curious reversal of the walk of shame, which usually happened when leaving the bedroom. To avoid stepping on the legs of his pants, he tugged them up, slipping his cock back inside in the process.Sabrina glanced back, and she affected a pout for a moment upon seeing that he’d concealed himself, but then laughed as she stepped across the threshold of his bedroom.He. My first view burst on me like a display of fireworks. The very air sparkled and sang with a rainbow of colour. The bonfire that they danced around fizzled and dazzled off the bright gypsy clothes almost as loudly as their guitars and castanets sang. The laughter and energy was pure and intense, so sexual that it was a tangible thing. I craved it instantly! Men and women swirled and twirled together, but this was no innocent dance. It was ripe with suggestion and promise. Bodies brushed and separated, but hands trailed behind, maintaining the intimate contact as long as they cold, even while they moved to caress the next breast, stomach, bum or cock. It clearly didn’t matter who you were, man or woman, all moved and twirled and touched together in this hypnotically writhing mass. I knew from the tantalizing gossip that had drawn me here that tonight was an initiation. I had wondered what sort of initiation. Now I knew that whatever else it was, it was my initiation into my own.
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