Millennial Madness

MILLENNIAL MADNESS

It had been a disappointing day. Here she was again. Alone on New Year’s Eve. She went to The Leathers Party in San Francisco on a last-minute lark. She had been able to book a room in the City. She had never been to a play party. And this one promised to be somewhat tamer than one in the dungeons to which she had recently been invited.

Tonight she was definitely a voyeur, though she did indulge herself in a new set of leathers. Quite frankly she did look good. The new corset cinched in her waist tightly. Beneath it her hips flared beautifully to rounded, ripe globes. Her breasts were barely contained by the half-cup of the upper corset. They, too, were full and ripe, ready for tasting. The black leather skirt, just covering the hips, ruffled as she walked. For a finishing touch, she had chosen a new collar. From it hung a short leash. She was playing the sub tonight.

The line was long at The Leathers Party. There were many who simply came to it as a dress-up party. For them it was a time to play at being what they were not. There were a lot of wannabes there. But there were a few real players. She could tell the differences.

A couple of the wannabes had made passes. She wanted nothing to do with them. The real players were in groups. You could tell who were the dommes and doms and subs.

The New Year began. She felt someone grope her rear. And she slapped at the hand with her riding crop. She slid into a corner and watched the celebration of the year 2000. At the corner of the stage a sub clad only in a leather thong and collar bent to kiss the black leather boots of his mistress. Along the side of the room a pretty blonde sub knelt before her master and licked his boots from knee to the tops, which rose just short of the PVC that barely covered his rear.

Yes, she was turned on. And she felt she had better get out of there and take care of herself. Besides, the last cable car from the Wharf left at 1 AM. She grabbed her coat (she had brought the leather one as a joke), wrapped herself in it, and headed for the cable cars.

The lines were longer tonight. Many more people had come to the Wharf for the New Year’s celebrations. She was glad her coat covered her clothing. Even if it were San Francisco, she didn’t want to advertise her preferences. Not just yet.

She waited in the line for the cable car. It slid into the turn-around and began loading passengers. By the time she was allowed to board, it was crowded and she had to stand. People were crowded in. There has hardly room to breathe. Immediately the car began to rise. She always loved the scenery as the car climbed upward. She was thrown backward against the person behind her. She tried to turn and apologize, but such a move was impossible in the crowding.

As the car continued to climb she thought she felt a hand brush against her rear, up under her coat. At first she thought she was imagining things. Possibly a figment of her desires.

Once more as the car lurched forward and upward she felt the hand on her prominent globes. A voice whispered “so round, so firm..so” and left it hanging there.

She was definitely turned on. She could feel the warmth start in her belly. It was exciting. Not knowing. And with her not objecting, he continued. He moved the black thong she was wearing to the side and slid it between her legs from behind. As the cable car rocked up the hill, the hand transited the outer lips and found their way to the center.

“Mmmm” a voice crooned in her ear. “So warm on such a cool night.”

All around she could hear the millennial revelers as they joked and jostled their way to the top of the hill. When they reached the top of the hill many got off the car and as many more took their places. All through the transfer of people, she felt the hand massaging her erotically. She felt herself being to move to the rhythm of the hand. She could feel the people around her. She smiled wickedly to herself. What would they do if they knew what was happening? All it would take would be for one person to move and they would all see.

The cable car now began its descent of the city side of the hill. She fell back against the hand. It was removed. She sagged a little, disappointed at the prospect. Once more she felt something against her rear. This time it was hard, wet, and begging penetration to her secrets. She adjusted her stance and leaned back against the rod that threatened to impale her.

It was insistent. She felt it demanding entrance. As the cable car bounced, she felt the rod penetrate slightly into the wet cavern of her. Slowly she felt herself rocking to the rhythm of the cable car. With each movement, she could feel the deeper penetration of the rod. Finally, the car stopped with a lurch that threw the person behind her roughly against her back. She gasped as the rod penetrated deeply into her and began pumping hot liquid. She moaned, but all on board thought no more of it than a reaction to the recent lurching of the car. Over and over again the warm stream pumped into her. And she rocked against it. Gasped as the car lurched forward, heading further down the hills of San Francisco toward her hotel in the City.

At the next stop she felt the softened rod withdraw. As many people left the car at this time she turned, hoping to see who had been behind her. But no one was there. She surveyed the passengers who were debarking and hustling off in many directions. Only when her car continued on its way did she lock eyes with a tall dark man on the side of the street. He put his fingers to his mouth, licked them, and saluted, white teeth gleaming as he smiled.

She returned to the hotel. There was no need for relief now, but snuggled into her bed. Maybe 2000 wouldn’t be such a horrible year after all.

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