SinfullyYours by Lisa Fox

Chapter One
     
    It was Mardi Gras night, and Bailey was horny. She stood on
the corner of Bourbon and St. Peter, watching the people scream and cheer,
exchange beads and bodily fluids. The night was humid, sultry and the air was
heavy with the scent of sin and sex. Sweat damped the brows of the revelers as
they wallowed in all kinds of depravity and hedonistic delights. Nothing was
taboo on Mardi Gras and for the right amount of beads, even the dirtiest
requests might be granted.
    A young couple laughed uproariously as they fell against the
outside of Preservation Hall in a tangle of limbs and lips. Bailey smiled as
she watched them, the first stirrings of her own lust tickling her insides. The
man’s hands roamed over the woman’s chest, roughly squeezing her over her
clothes. Her brand-name T-shirt was no match for his amorous fumbling, and it
was quickly pushed aside to reveal her small, high breasts. The man beamed,
overjoyed with his prize, and dove in face first.
    Drunken spectators began to gather around them, blocking her
view. Not that it mattered. People were getting it on everywhere, on the
balconies, in the doorways, in the middle of the street. Mardi Gras was a
voyeur’s wet dream and there were many excellent sights to feast upon—breasts
and asses and even some cocks here and there. And so much variety. Every size,
shape and color was boldly represented, and everyone was rewarded with beads
and adoration. There was something for all tastes, a decadent cornucopia of
naked flesh.
    A wonderful display indeed, but tonight was about more than
just watching. Tonight, Bailey was going to find a man and fuck him hard .
She had worked the entire duration of Mardi Gras, serving drinks to people too
drunk to care what they were drinking. The bar had been packed every single
night, no less than four deep at any given point during her shift, and by the
time five a.m. rolled around and she got through all the details of shift
change with the morning bartender, she had been too whipped to go out and
frolic. Now, after two weeks of ass-kicking toil, she was finally off, and
ready to party.
    A man approached her out of the streaming throng of
revelers, a wide grin on his generous lips. She did a quick assessment, looking
him up and down. Not her usual type, he was a little too young, a little too
frat-boy preppy for her taste, but he had a nice body. He probably had a
decent-sized cock too, nothing too outrageous or all that long or fat, but
serviceable. With the right kind of directions, he might even be able to use it
properly. She smiled at him as he untangled a set of sparkling purple beads
from the bundle on his chest and placed them around her neck. The inevitable
declaration, “ Show me your tits !” was bound to come next, it was the
customary payment for such a gesture after all. She was ready to show him what he
wanted, and perhaps a whole lot more, but he just smiled without a word and
melded back in with the crowd.
    “All well,” Bailey said and adjusted the beads around her
neck. Apparently, he wasn’t the one. That was all right though because there
were plenty of others to choose from. Men paraded up and down Bourbon Street, drinking
beer out of plastic cups, flinging beads, partying passionately. Any one of
them would do just as well. She wasn’t looking for the love of her life or any
kind of love at all, but if she was really lucky, she would get to feel that
instant hit of sexual attraction, that tingling thrill that always meant
phenomenal sex. A rare thing, she knew, but it was awesome when it happened.
Even if it didn’t happen, that was okay too. Tonight was about getting laid,
nothing more, and she was going to scratch that itch for all it was worth.
    A roar of cheers and applause exploded from somewhere down
the street and Bailey smiled. Someone must have shown something very, very
good. She toasted the night with the remnants of the cocktail she had picked up
before hitting Bourbon Street.