Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica


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Xmas Elves

We had been invited to a gathering to be held at a bourgeois meeting hall located off the shore of the Hudson river. The island had been the homestead of a local aristocrat until the fire of 1917 destroyed the main living quarters. Unable to undergo restoration, the island was taken over by the State of New York and access limited until a fire in 1970 made it hazardous to visit the island. Unknown to many is the island posh meeting hall that survived both fires. It is presently used for special occasions through an invitation-only group headed by one of the descendants of the original owners. The Hall has operated in obscurity since 1917 and its management handed down from descendant to descendant. Proceeds are generated from each event are used to maintain the hall.

Our friends were extremely excited. They had known about The Hall for a few years but had never been invited, and less so, allowed to bring guests to any of the events hosted by Mateo (the current manager of The Hall and Founding Father of the Meet-Up group). The pre-party was held at a local bar where guests mingled for about two hours before being picked-up by car-service at 8PM. Conversation was consumed by The Hall as opposed to the what happened at The Hall. The fascinating story of the island was presented through large screens but the meeting hall was never presented. What seemed like seconds after our arrival, the first set of guests were selected to be driving up to the docking station where small boats awaited to taxi participants to the much anticipated location.

The forty minute scenic drive north to the boats saw us giggling like children, wondering what this hall was all about and what awaited us. Down a long dirt-paved, one line path, the car service went. Every few hundred feet, a parking attendant pointed us towards the right direction. Once at the docking station, a total of 15 small boats, each sitting no more than 6 occupants, waited for passengers.

Mateo, welcomed us first. He had taken a liking to our friends and wished to ride with to the island. On the ride we spoke about one another, the usual small chat of work, family, hobbies and the such. It was about a 5 minute ride to the island. Two individuals waited for boats to arrive, quickly tying them to a long floating and portable deck that hand been assembled just for the event.

There wasn’t, and isn’t electricity at the island. Whatever path was visible by moonlight was made clearer by a torch carried by Mateo. It truly felt like the turn of 19th century. Mateo spoke with a heavy accent that I couldn’t place, nor worried much about finding out. Soon a queue of laughter built behind us. The rest of the guests had arrived along with their pre-party inebriation.

It was difficult to discern much in the facade of The Hall. At best it appeared to be a relic of a building, a pre WWI smallish construction perhaps 25 feet high. The main doors covered ceiling to floor, giving it an almost barn-like feeling. Torches located on the walls, coupled to old candle-light chandeliers light the inside romantically bright.

At the door, our friends purchased raffle tickets. Not being official members, we were not allowed to directly purchase tickets as the there was a point tally tied to each member that came with some form of price upon reaching different dollar amounts. No cameras, cell phones and anything besides mental pictures were allowed in the trip as not to reveal more than the mind allowed to capture.

We mingled much of the night, mostly flirting and in slight disbelief of the attire chosen by some of the guests; especially the women who dressed much provocative. Towards the middle of the night, our friend had to depart the party, a bit too drunk to make a proper judgment, he chose to leave before being asked to leave. He handed us his ticket and told us that while we couldn’t buy the tickets, as companions of invited guest, we could very well collect the winnings.

At precisely 1 AM, Mateo signals for all the torches but two at a small platform, where he stood, to be turned off. Everyone, perhaps some 60 people, gathered around him awaiting the results of the raffle. Not two winning numbers had been announced when my ticket was called.

The raffle worked as followed. There was a bucket holding the price, the winning participant would randomly select from the bucket. Once the price was broadcasted, guests submitted their names into another bucket. At the end of the night, the winners would select from the pool of names (the bucket) tied to the won price. At the following gathering, the price would be collected.

My lady and I had won, fallacious or cunnilingus; either as recipients or grantors. My lady shied away and granted me to choose what I wanted to do. Enjoying giving greatly more than receiving, I chose to give it. Just before the night ended, winners gathered by the platform to chose names. I put my hand in to select the first name, then again for the second name.

The two women had already left, so it was a mystery who would be my xmas elves. Mateo arrange for us to attend the next event. Not being members, we could not attend without an invitation. Mateo gave us a card with his assistants contact info and instructed us to give her the winning number, that she would in turn gives us further information to collect the prices.

The next morning my lady calls the number. A woman answers, giving us instructions to collect the price. The next gathering was to be held close to our hometown, in a “Castle”. We were to attend, meet the participants, arrange what was or wasn’t allowed then proceed with xmas. That entire week my lady and I “strategized”. Whether to proceed, or simply ignore it. If we were to decline, we would be placed in a “blacklist” and not allowed re-entry into any of the events, ever again. Not sure that this was something we wanted to get into, we decided not to attend halfway through the week. But, come Saturday night, we had changed our minds. We did want to at least try it.

We got to the castle very early, at least an hour and a half before anyone else arrived. We sat by the bar nervous. A few drinks, courtesy of winning the raffle, suppressed the nerves enough to grown rather excited. Mateo was the first to arrive after us. He gave us ideas as to limits that might make it more comfortable for us. We agreed on only allowing the partners to be present during the entire act. There would be no intercourse; I, along with everyone else in the room not receiving the “gift”, would remain clothed. A time limit of 30 minutes was set after which the women would dress and return to bar to share their thoughts with my lady and I. Mateo would act as an “arbiter” in case a conflict arouse.

The two ladies whose name I had chosen from the bucket arrived. We had in fact met at The Hall. A slender yet curvy black women in her mid 20s, accompanied by her husband of two years. And, an older brunette in her early 50s. Meeting her was somewhat stressful for me as I had seen her at my local gym quite enough times to know we lived in the same town. She also recalled me from the gym.

Soon enough we had all made acquaintances. The young black woman had no reservations about what was about to happen and showed me that she was panty-less awaiting my tongue AND fingers. The older woman was a bite more reserved. She wore a simple long red dress falling beautifully on her chest. Her perky butt was a rather welcome experience against the red dress.

In the very order in which the winning numbers were announced, were the participants called to action. The older woman’s long time partner decided to skip the action and stayed at the bar flirting with a young lady. The husband of the black young woman didn’t want to miss this “hell no”. He accompanied my lady and us three to the room, of course, attempting what he could muster with my lady…

It took little time for both women to undress. They kissed while undressing one another. They quickly tasted each other then looked at me and asked what I was waiting for. I looked at my lady, passionately kissed her, grabbed her crotch and walked towards the price. I asked them to get ass up and face down. Have you ever seen the comparative skin tones of a black woman next to a white woman? With the shades of black, brown, pink, beige, red staring back at you already moist? Well, that stared back at me. A perfectly black round ass besides the full maturity of woman who hadn’t lost a day of working out in her life.

I didn’t know who to taste first, who to finger first. I looked back at my lady and she pointed me in the direction of the older woman. I placed my nose around her clit and drove it upwards, splitting her in half with my tongue trailing it until I got to her ass. A deep sigh and moan filled the room loud enough to cause the young girl to wiggle her butt, when I quickly spanked her. She giggled and said “If I’m going to be last, at least finger me until she cums”.

Back and forth between both girls I went. Licking pussy and ass again and again overtaken by the variation of their tastes. It was as if I were trying to determine which brand of Rye Whiskey I couldn’t live without. I spanked, I fingered, I moaned, I wanted to have intercourse yet couldn’t. The young woman’s husband nearly ejaculated on his pants when he saw me spank his lady’s vulva. “Oh yeah, she a bad girl! Let her have it”.

Seven minutes remained and I had yet to make them cum. Mostly because the contentious pauses for me to look at them, to ask them to touch each other again; to taste one another again. My lady asked me to finish before I lost my chance and they, their time. I asked the young woman to sit on the face of the older woman while I fingered, kiss, licked, sucked all of the older woman’s openings until she smeared my face with her presents. From my lack of creativeness, the same fate awaited the young girl. Her though, I roughed up a bit. She had grown to like the deliberate pussy spanks, the hard buttock squeezes and light bites of her labia. A stream gushed out of her that I can still nearly smell today with each deep breath.

A knock on the door declared time was up. The women dressed themselves quickly but not after having my lady dry them clean with towels. We all walked out in a rather good mood. The older woman kissed my lips dry and the young girl handed us her phone number. We stayed at the party until a total of 6 prices had been completed. My lady and I spoke to my two xmas elves the remainder of the night, sharing likes and dislikes, thoughts and ideas.