DaneJones Get Some
Sensual Delights: A Madison-Made Memoir of “Get Some”
“It was raining that fateful Tuesday night, the kind of drizzle that plasters your hair to your forehead and makes your mascara run. I had just left my soul-crushing admin job at the law firm, dreaming of a life less ordinary. Little did I know, fate had other plans.
Entering my studio apartment, I kicked off my sensible black heels and sighed, facing my dated furnishings. But then, a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all Madisen Beaty, my neighbor from across the hall. A faint smile played on her lips as she handed me a DVD.
“Thought you could use some excitement in your life,” she purred, twirling her chestnut tresses. Before I could protest, she sauntered away.
Ripping open the DVD case, I read the label: “Dane Jones’ Get Some.” Curiosity got the best of me. I slid it into my ancient laptop and hit play, settling onto my ratty couch.
The screen flooded with light, revealing a cozy bedroom with a king-sized bed. Rose petals littered the crimson sheets. My pulse quickened.
Then, she emerged from the bathroom – Dane Jones herself, in all her resplendent glory. Her raven curls tumbled down her bare back, complementing her olive complexion. She wore nothing but a strappy black lace bra and matching panties that left little to the imagination.
With catlike grace, she crawled onto the bed, her emerald eyes smoldering with desire. “I know you’ve been watching me,” she whispered to an unseen partner. “I’ve seen you jerking off in the window across the hall.”
My cheeks flushed at the implication, completely enraptured by her performance. Dane was a master thief, breaking into the most guarded safe vaults – my enflamed loins.
She continued, “Let me help you with that.” Flipping onto her back, she shimmied out of her panties and spread her legs. A neatly trimmed patch of hair dusted her mons. Her bra joined the panties on the floor, freeing her bountiful breasts. Cinnamon nipples, as large as dinner plates, topped her heaving mounds.
Slowly, she traced a finger down her nevertheless hairless slit, as though it were a dangerous cliff edge. A glistening bead of arousal collected at her entrance. “You like what you see?” she inquired, eyes hooded with lust.
Unable to respond, I hit the full-screen button and cranked the volume. Dane’s panting reverberated through the speakers, mingling with my own hushed breaths. Each exhale conjured an arctic blast that nipped at my hardening nipples through my blouse.
She continued her heist, one hand kneading a breast while the other delved into her dripping folds. “Mmm…feels so good,” she moaned, arching her back. “Wish it was your fingers…your tongue…your cock.”
I tugged at my pencil skirt, desperate for relief. A moist patch welled on the fabric over my mound. Dane’s devotee, I sank two fingers into my slick heat, curling them upward. My free hand fumbled with the buttons of my blouse, unleashing my pert tits.
Dane’s fingers pumped faster, piling the pressure in her core. Dew droplets cascaded down her inner thighs. Her mental invader zeroed in on a sweet spot. She threw her head back,inxing herself to madness. “Oh god oh god!” she wailed.
I copied her rhythm cunt-to-hole, each thrust coiling the energy in my center. Sparks flew behind my eyelids, threatening to ignite.
On screen, Dane erupted, her body undulating with the force. Juices squirted onto the sheets as she rode the high. Catching my reflection in the laptop screen, I paused – an unrecognizable woman writhed in pleasure, flushed face clad in a blissful mask.
Dane’s spasms subsided, and she collapsed, chest heaving. A satisfied smirk traced her lips. I found myself mirroring her grin, deliciously spent. The reality of what we’d shared settled into the stagnant air.
As the credits rolled, I slumped back against the couch cushions, heart pounding, thighs smeared with slickness. Dane Jones noticed things, made people feel seen. And I – I now saw everything in a new erotic light.
