Sunday Sex

Sunday Sex is sacred to us, a tradition of sorts. It’s always slow. Always tender.

Which is much different than our usual session. Our usual session involves biting and growling and several loud orgasms. And ropes. Or a belt. Sometimes both. And if I’ve been a good girl, a flogger.

But Sunday Sex is sleepy and dreamy and one quiet, moaning orgasm. It’s simple. Satisfying. And reinforces our love.

So when he shoves my arms above my head, grips my wrists and presses them into the bed, I’m surprised. And at once, every nerve in my body tingles.

He knows I like it hard, rough. Not that I don’t like Sunday Sex, but when he fucks me, pounds me, I feel truly wanted. Truly owned.

I wiggle beneath him as he kisses my neck, rubs his morning bristles against my cheek. I open my thighs to him, my hips reach up. I moan when he shifts away from me.

“Not yet, baby girl. Let me do this.”

“But, Daddy…”

He looks down at me. “Let me do this,” he repeats. “Keep your hands where I put them. I am trusting you to behave as if they were tied.”

It seems impossible, but my pussy throbs more. “Yes, Daddy.” It is barely a whisper.

“Good girl.” He kisses my mouth, nips my bottom lip. “Legs together.”

Understanding slams through me then. Oh fuck, is all I can think. A session, but not a session. Tied, but not tied. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!

I draw my legs together. And just to be safe, clasp my hands together above my head.

“I saw that,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s angry and I am immediately contrite.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. But I’m used to holding onto the ropes. My hands need to hold onto something. So I’ll hold onto myself instead.”

“You’re such a clever girl.” He kisses me hard. “I accept your compromise, but don’t bring your hands down.”

“No, Daddy.”

“Remember the Rule,” he warns.

My heart pounds. Oh fuck! We don’t follow the Rule on Sundays.

“Yes, Daddy.”

As he travels down my body, my hands clench and unclench, my hips buck. But my hands stay above my head and my legs stay together. Because the rule is: “Only Daddy spreads your thighs”.

And since I’m a bit of a slut, this isn’t an easy thing for me to do.

His mouth trails down my belly, kisses my hips. He pushes his tongue between my thighs and tongues my clit. I grip my hands together and thrust my hips into his face.

“I like when my girl is greedy, needing Daddy’s tongue, desperate to fuck Daddy’s mouth.”

I love it when he talks like this. It makes me want him more and my hips pump faster.

And this is when the session truly begins. Which one of us will give in first? Will he shove my thighs apart first? Or will I beg him to eat me first? And it will involve begging, because I know the moment I ask, it will invoke the Begging Rule. Which translates to me begging and Daddy teasing me until I’m coming apart. And as much as I like invoking the Begging Rule…because I’m a bit of masochist and love to edge…I don’t have time for that shit. Not today. I don’t want to be teased. I just want to fucking cum! Now. Hard and fast.

“You make my pussy feel so good, Daddy.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, Daddy. My pussy is leaking down my ass.”

“Do you want Daddy to lick your sweet ass?”

I moan. “Yes, Daddy.”

He digs his fingers into my hips and growls, his tongue still pressed against my clit. The vibration shoots right through me and I pump faster.

And I say what I know will send him over the edge. I know that he allows it to send him over the edge. But we both know I won’t ask if I don’t want it. And he won’t even try if I don’t want it. I love that about him.

“I want Daddy to fuck my ass.”

Without ceremony, he shoves my thighs apart and back, buries his face into my pussy.

His open mouth sucks hard as he spreads my pussy with his thumbs.

“Daddy, you’re going to make me cum!” And if this a Sunday Sex session, it means only one orgasm. Another Rule. And I don’t want to cum this fast. Not right now. Not when it feels this good.

He looks up at me and grins. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Not even close. Sunday has just begun.”

Meeting Allen

Nerves ripped through her like an electrical shock.

For more than a year, Angela had texted, emailed and phoned Allen. It had started with sexting, which quickly moved to phone sex and now they regularly met on Skype to masturbate.

He was easy to talk to, made her laugh. She loved his dirty mind. And in a few minutes, she was going to finally meet him.

She tuned the hotel clock radio to a jazz station set low, then turned down the bed.

She ran a hand down the short silk dressing gown she wore. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it, it wasn’t like she planned on wearing it long. In fact, she wasn’t planning on wearing much at all this weekend.

The quiet knock had her nipples puckering and her pussy slick with need. She let the gown slide off her shoulders and pool around her feet as she opened the door.

Big and strong, he filled the doorway. Those eyes she’d only seen in pictures and video now widened as he looked her up and down.

Allen’s easy grin dropped. “Jesus Christ.”

Angela smiled. “Hi handsome.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

She waited until he closed the door before she launched herself at him. He caught her, his mouth greedy against hers, his tongue teasing. Those wide hands she’d seen stroke his cock, now stroked her body, seemed to be everywhere at once. She was a bundle of need, teetering on the edge of release.

“I need you inside me. Now.” She had done nothing but think about this since they’d made plans to meet. She’d been horny for days and no amount of self-pleasure could ease the pressure.

“Let me do this.” He dropped to his knees, pushed open her thighs.

With his thumbs, he spread swollen lips, circled a finger inside her up to the first knuckle. Just the tip, just a tease.

“Jesus, you’re wet.”

She whimpered, tried to lower herself, desperate for relief, but he held her up.

“Not yet,” he mumbled against her.

His fingers kept her spread wide as he kissed her thighs, sucked her labia. She tried to shift so that he could suck on her clit, but he moved away each time.

“Allen!” She was whimpering now and her legs shook. Head tipped back, pressed against the hallway wall, her hips rocked against air begging him for release. “Please. Please.”

“That’s what I want to hear. I want to hear you beg.”

He cupped her ass in both hands pulled her pussy into his face. His head moved from side to side, rocked up and down, as his tongue lapped with greed. It twirled around her clit, thrust inside of her.

She spread her legs wider, inviting more. Needing more.

“That’s it baby, open up for me.”

He sucked her clit into his mouth, pushed two fingers into her cunt, curling them to tap that most sensitive spot just inside.

She couldn’t breathe and the need to bear down was unbearable. It was too much and her body bowed back as the orgasm tore through her.

“Fuck! Me!”

Allen caught her before she collapsed.

“That’s next,” he said, as he pulled her to the bed.

Wendigo*

She wears nothing but a silk tie and silk ropes.

He covers her almond-shaped eyes with a fantasy tie by Rubinacci. It seems appropriate, all things considered.

He ties her calves to her thighs, her wrists to her knees. Her only comfortable position is with her thighs spread, pussy and ass exposed. She lays on the kitchen table, just at the edge, exposed to him like the best fucking meal a man could have.

He licks his lips, inhales. Yeah, the best fucking meal.

The chair scrapes the floor as he nudges it forward. Her cunt drips with need and he smiles.

"Greedy girl," he whispers. He flicks his tongue over her swollen clit and her body jerks. "You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I was looking forward to my dinner." He says it casually, as if they're having a conversation about weather or stocks. He looks up at her and sees her nod. And he smiles. "But you were late," he continues, keeping his voice flat, though his cock twitches.

She drops the smile and her bottom lip quivers. "But, Sir," she whimpers.

"You were late," he repeats. "And I was hungry."

Her hands bunch into fists. "Yes, Sir. I understand." He can see her body all but deflate.

"What do you think I should do?" he asks.

She hesitates for only a moment...his girl is so well-trained.

"I should be punished." Her tone says defeat.

She knows this will not be maintenance punishment. Not a casual spanking over his lap that ends in a hard fucking. She knows this will end in disappointment. She knows it will end with her wanting.

"How do you think I should punish you?"

"However Sir thinks I should be punished."

Again, such a well-trained girl. He knows he should punish her, and yet...

He leans his head against her thigh, brushes his beard against the tender skin; something he knows she likes. "I can't. I've been waiting all day for this."

"I know, Sir, and I'm sorry."

He smiles against her thigh. "Yeah, maybe." He kisses her thigh. "You'll be really sorry after I'm done."

"I...what?"

He doesn't respond to her query. Instead, he simply wraps his arms around her thighs and buries his face into her pussy.

"Oh! Oh, fuck, Sir! Yes!" Her hips buck into his face, blindly reaching for more.

"Start counting," he orders. He doesn't mean the smacks on her ass that he insists she counts out loud in a strong voice. He means something else. And she knows what he means.

"Yes, Sir!" He can hear the smile in her voice.

He spreads her pussy wide with his thumbs and sucks hard on her clit. As always, she cums fast and hard.

"One!" she cries as the orgasm hits.

He continues to lap at her pussy, thrusting his tongue into her cunt.

"Oh!" she cries and he knows she realizes what he meant. What he meant by counting and what he meant by being sorry and, most important, what her punishment will be.

It is a fantasy she had shared with him weeks ago...to be forced to cum over and over...and he wants to give it to her. Give her this gift. A gift for his good, good girl.

"One," she repeats. And he knows she's in.

"Use your safe word if you need to."

"Yes, Sir."

He knows she won't, but he'll watch her and shut down the session if necessary. Until then...

He presses his open mouth against her pussy and grinds his tongue against her clit as she chants "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Her thighs quiver as she cries out "Two!"

He presses a finger into her cunt as he continues to suck on her clit, fucking into her until she convulses around him. He loves that she's so quick to orgasm.

"Three!" His thumb works her clit as he licks the tight rosebud that continues to pucker.

"Oh, fuck, Sir. Keep doing that. Don't stop. You know how much I like it when you play with my ass."

"Yes I do." He moves up to her pussy and she groans. "You know the rules."

"Yes, Sir." Her hips thrust up. "You know what I want and what I need."

"And?"

"And you will give me what I want and what I need. I don't need to tell you."

"Good girl."

Confident that he has trained her well, that she'll obey, he loses himself in her. Loses himself in the heady scent of her pussy, in the dripping sweetness of her cunt. He clamps his open mouth onto her pussy, sucks her clit into his mouth, swirls his tongue around her until she is cumnming again. He rams two fingers into her soaking cunt and fucks into her as he continues to suck.

He stands, shoves the chair away, knocking it over. One hand reaches up to grip one tit and his fingers continue to drill into her and she cries out again. One hand twists a nipple, the other fucks into her greedy cunt, his mouth licks and sucks her clit. Tight muscles throb against his fingers as she cums over and over.

He realizes that she no longer uses words but only pants and moans.

"Oh fuck, baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was enjoying it so much." He kisses her thigh. "So fucking much. You didn't use your safe word."

She rocks her head from side to side and chants. "Nine. Nine. Nine."

"Shall we make it an even ten?"

She arches as much as the ropes allow. "Please!"

He cups both tits in his hands and shoves his hard cock into her cunt, gripping her tits like anchors. She is frantic now, her head rolling from side to side chanting "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!".

He shifts, grabs her knees and rams into her over and over until her cunt spasms, sucking at his cock, pulling at him until he is cumming, unloading deep inside her.

He drapes over her, putting most of his weight on one elbow.

"How do you feel, baby?"

She sighs, shifts her head. Though she is blindfolded, she presses a kiss against his cheek without fumbling.

"Ten."

He chuckles. "Good girl."


*The wendigo is a mythical cannibal monster or evil spirit

Service Elevator

A glance out her office window told her that she’d worked too late. Again. The office tower across the road had dark windows which meant that it was at least midnight and the automatic timers had engaged.

Emily turned her wrist, narrowed a look at her watch. Yup. Twelve-fifteen.

She hooked her bag over her arm and walked out to the elevator. Working late was not an anomaly for Emily Grant, so walking through the office in complete silence, flanked by dark offices, didn’t bother her. She rather liked it. There was a general exodus around six o’clock, which made it easier to accomplish tasks that required her undivided focus. By eight, the place was empty.

She pushed through the secure glass doors into the corridor, pressed the down button. She was tired but had accomplished much more than she had expected. The proposal was finished and she could present it to the board on Monday. She was confident they would like her ideas and move to make the changes she was suggesting.

She closed her eyes, took in a cleansing breath, and let it out in a disappointed sigh when she heard footsteps. She knew everyone in her office was gone—had been gone for hours—so whoever was working late was with the investment firm across the hall.

Emily cursed the slow elevator. Now she would have to share the ride with a stranger. Not that she was concerned for her safety. She could look after herself. But she would have to make Small Talk and, dammit, it was too fucking late for that.

“Oh, hey.” Tall and lean, he wore a charcoal suit with a vibrant yellow and orange tie. He carried a leather briefcase. Emily recalled his name was Frank. He’d introduced himself the first time they’d met at the elevator several months ago. She’d had the hi-how-are-you-nice-weather-we’re-having conversation with him almost every day since then. The mundane had recently shifted to flirting, but it was still late. Not to mention, she had a bottle of chardonnay chilling at home and she could hear it calling her name.

He grinned at her. “We seem to be on the same schedule.”

She noticed the dimple this time. It softened his look, which was all dark and broody, a little dangerous. God help her, but bad boys had always been her weakness.

He pressed the down button.

“Why do people do that?” Emily asked.

He frowned at her. “Do what?”

“Press the elevator button when it’s already been pushed. The elevator isn’t going to get here any faster if you push the button several times.”

“Yes it will.” And to make his point, he pressed the button once more.

Emily let out a surprised laugh when the elevator chimed its arrival. “Well, it appears you have magic hands.” Oh god! Did she just say that?!

He held his arm out to keep the doors open. “I do,” he murmured as she eased by him.

She licked her lips. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that late.

Frank’s finger hovered over the service button and he glanced over at her, lifted one eyebrow in question.

No, it wasn’t late at all, Emily thought, and nodded her consent.

Her smile bloomed as the elevator stopped between floors and the lighting shifted to a dim emergency glow.

He pressed her against the elevator wall, pulled her chin down with his thumb. His mouth was hot and greedy against hers, his tongue offering promises.

As he devoured her mouth, one hand cupped her breast, squeezed her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress, the thin silk of her bra.

“I know we don’t have much time,” he murmured against her mouth. “Security will be checking on the elevator.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Forget the preamble.” She was desperate to feel him insider her.

He tipped his head back and smiled at her. “Oh, we’re going to preamble, darling. It’s just going to be fast. It’s all going to be fast and brutal.”

“Good,” was all she managed before he dropped to his knees and shoved up her skirt.

He yanked the silk panties aside and clamped his mouth on her pussy. He pressed her thighs apart with his elbows, spread her lips with his thumbs.

Emily held onto his head for balance—or maybe it was to keep him in place—as his mouth, tongue and teeth all ravaged her pussy until she was an incoherent puddle.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” The whispered chant was all she could manage.

Frank eased two fingers into her and the explosion was instant. Relentless, he fucked into her, sucked on her clit as her cunt convulsed around his fingers.

He stood up, sucked his fingers into his mouth. “Delicious.”

She reached for him. “I bet you are, too.”

He brushed her hands aside. “As much as I want to fuck your mouth, we don’t have time for that.” He unbuttoned his pants, drew down the zipper, let them drop to the floor. He made no comment to the fact that he was commando.

He boosted Emily up and she wrapped her legs around him, his cock finding her cunt like a missile. He held her against the wall and she held onto his shoulders. He rammed into her with a fevered frenzy that had her edging in seconds.

“You’re gonna make me cum again.”

His fingers dug into her hips. “Right there with you.”

With a final thrust, he emptied into her. She could feel his cock pulse inside her cunt as her own orgasm vibrated through her.

He pressed his mouth against hers, taking the kiss deep as he pulled out. He arranged her panties, pulled down the skirt of her dress. He pulled up his trousers, lifted the zipper, looped the button.

He kept his eyes on hers as he reached for the security button and released the elevator. He kissed her until the elevator reached the lobby.

When the doors opened, two security guards were waiting.

“Are you okay, Miss? Sir?”

Frank looked over at her. “You okay?” She could see the ghost of a smile play at his lips.

“I’m okay.”

Frank grinned at the security guard. “We’re okay.”

He stepped aside as the guards rushed into the elevator to ensure its safety.

“I’m working late again on Tuesday,” he said to Emily. Loud enough, she realized, for the guards to hear. “If you want, I’ll wait for you. Make you sure you go down safely.”

She smiled at his choice of words.

“I look forward to it.”

What she wants

I wait until she’s dressed; the pretty silk blouse and frilly floral skirt.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her.

She smiles. Blushes.

“Turn around.” I rotate my hand in the air, thrust my chin at her.

She sucks in a breath, but turns.

I push up her skirt to find her bare bottom. “Good girl.”

I brush my fingers over her pussy.

“Oh, Jesus, sweetheart. And you’re so wet."

"You make me wet." Her voice is breathy, barely a whisper.

I smile. "You’re about to get wetter."

I press my mouth against her pussy, savor the salty-sweetness that is hers.

She bends over, her legs wide and I push her cheeks open. She rocks back and forth, riding my tongue, moaning my name.

My cock is throbbing and I need her lips around it. I need to hold her head as I fuck her sweet mouth, but I can’t stop feasting on her juices. She tastes so fucking good.

She’s panting now, and I know she’s close.

I reach up, gently pinch her clit and she groans.

"Please,” she begs. “Please."

And I know what she wants.

I drag my tongue along her wet folds, up to her tight asshole, swirling my tongue round and round.

"Yes!” she moans. “Yes!"

I squeeze her swollen clit and grind her ass with my tongue until she cums, sobbing my name.

Jackhammer

You kiss my throat, run your tongue along the back of my neck. It’s an erogenous zone that makes me instantly wet.

And you know it.

Your hands cup my breasts, massaging, kneading. You roll each nipple between your fingers, pinching and twisting. My legs tremble and my head drops back on your shoulder. You reach down with one hand and finger the wet folds of my pussy. The other hand cups my chin, tilts my face. Your mouth devours mine while your fingers swirl around my clit. My hips rock against your hand as you swallow my moans.

“Please,” I beg. “I need you inside me.”

“Not yet,” you say, against my mouth.

I whimper, grind my hips against your hand, but it’s not enough. I reach down, press your hand against my pussy. Your hand glides down, a finger teases my cunt.

“Yes!” My back against your chest, I arch my hips, hook an arm around your neck. “More,” I beg. “Please. I need more.”

“Greedy girl.” You spin me around, hoist me onto the kitchen table. You yank a chair over and sit, shove my thighs apart. Before I can even sigh, your mouth is on my clit, sucking hard.

“Fuck!” I drop back onto the table and you push my legs back, spreading my legs wider. Your tongue works my clit, licking and swirling. You suck it in between your lips and the sensation has me groaning. You ram your fingers in my cunt.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I hold my knees back and you fuck me, ramming into me like a jackhammer, again and again, until you make me cum hard.

Hog Wild

Jessica pushed the kick stand out, swung her leg off the bike. She eased off her helmet, ran her fingers through her hair.

She waved to a few riders she recognized, hooked her helmet onto the sissy bar. The charitable ride was fun. The route had meandered through several small towns where residents had lined the streets. It had moved her to see so many people standing on sidewalks and at the end of their driveways with signs that said ‘THANK YOU’ in large bright letters.

“Kinda chokes you up, doesn’t it?”

Jessica nodded at the biker who parked next to her. “I had to keep telling myself not to cry.”

“I hear ya.”

Jessica snorted out a laugh. Jake was tall, with a slender but muscled build that said he was disciplined. The shaved head and goatee gave him a somewhat hostile demeanor. It seemed that she bumped into him at every charity ride; they had made a habit of flirting and teasing each other.

“You were crying?”

He smiled showing straight, white teeth and a dimple that winked in his left cheek. Damn he was hot!

“Don’t tell anyone. I have a rep.”

Yeah, she had heard about Jake’s rep, wondered if the rumors were true. “Your secret is safe with me.” She laughed, shoved her gloves into a saddle bag. “I’m going to grab something to eat. Want to join me?”

“Sure. But I could use a drink first.” He put his hand on her back to steer her toward the beer garden. The touch was light and casual, but it felt intimate.

“I’m not thirsty.”

He stopped, turned to face her. His hand never left her back, but pressed into her, held her against him. Possessed. “Good. Me neither.”

He took her hand and walked toward one of the pavilions, tested two doors before he found one that opened. He closed the door behind them, twisted the lock, flipped on the light. Shelves were neatly stacked with cleaning supplies. A wood table dominated most of the space.

“Are you okay with this? We can go…”

The rest of Jake’s suggestion was muffled in his shirt as Jessica pulled it over his head, dropped it on the floor. She raked her nails across his chest, pressed an open mouth on his left nipple, flicked her tongue across the silver ring that pierced it. He cupped his hand on the back of her head, pressed her against him. She tugged at the ring and he groaned, pushing his hips against hers.

She shifted, cupped his hard cock with her hand.

He backed her against the table. “Jess, Jesus, I want…I fucking need to taste you.”

She kept her eyes on his as she popped the buttons on his jeans; smiled when she found him commando.

“You said you were thirsty.” Her hand wrapped around his cock when it sprang free. She grazed her teeth along his throat as she stroked him.

“I was.” Jake boosted her up onto the table, yanked off her jeans, pushed her knees back. “Now I’m hungry.”

He shoved her thighs apart, spread her lips and stood over her.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “And so fucking wet.”

His face hovered above her a moment. He raised his eyes to meet hers, then his mouth was on her pussy, hot as fire. He lapped at her, feasted on her like a rabid wolf. She cupped his head, pushed him against her and he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“I need you inside me. Now.”

“Not yet.”

“God, Jake.” His mouth was doing wonderful things to her pussy , but she needed more. “Please, I need something inside me.”

“I can do that.”

As he sucked hard on her clit, he pressed two fingers into her cunt, slid them in slow, then withdrew. When she arched against him, he pushed in as deep as he could.

“Oh, God, yes!” Her hips rocked against his hand and he pistoned like a jackhammer while she chanted his name. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

Even as she came, he kept fucking her with his fingers. “No chance, babe.”

Barbie

I was thirteen when I made my Barbie fuck Ken.

Ken was on top, Barbie was on her back. It's what I knew to be the norm. Then my older sister told me about sixty-nine, and Ken and Barbie discovered a new position.

I got a new Barbie for my fourteenth birthday. Ken was a happy man. He had two women who fucked him day and night in a variety of positions.

Then I found my dad’s Playboy magazines, and everything changed. Pressing Ken against Barbie made my stomach jump, but pressing Barbie against her girlfriend made my pussy tingle.

None of us noticed that Ken had driven off in the pink convertible. The Barbies were too busy eating each other’s smooth pussies.

And I discovered masturbating.

I would lie in my bed, surrounded by teddy bears, and stroke my clit.

Eyes closed, I fantasized that my best friend, her long blond hair a contrast to my own raven locks, kneeled between my legs. Her eager mouth against my pussy, her tongue licking my clit.

My fingers were her mouth as they swirled over my clit. My fingers were her fingers as they fucked into my innocent cunt.

Good Girl

My head rests on your lap. I unzip your trousers, reach in and pull out your hard cock. I lick my lips at the beauty, the glorious thick shaft. The tip glistens with a bead of pre-cum, twitches in anticipation. I swipe my tongue, relish that first taste.

My ass rises up as I shift to my knees, wrap my mouth around you, take you in as far as I can. You moan, drop your head back onto the sofa, cup my ass with your hand.

As I stroke your cock, fuck it with my warm, wet mouth, I fall into the zone; that delicious place where my body only feels and my mind empties of everything but you.

You slap my ass once, twice, three times. The sting makes my pussy drip with greed and I slide further into that misty place. I moan — something I know you like because it vibrates up your cock — and suck faster. Harder.

You groan, press my head down, urge me to suck you harder. I wrap my hand around the base and stroke in time with my mouth, squeezing tight.

“Good girl,” you moan. “Such a good girl.” You reward me by pressing your finger into my ass, stroking in and out.

Your cock hardens even more and you thrust your hips forward, push down on my head and grunt as you cum, your warm juice coating my mouth and throat.

Your finger presses palm-deep into me and my own orgasm rips through me, my tight ass gripping your finger like a vice.

Never enough

She holds herself open, looks over her shoulder, daring me.

I act all nonchalant for about three seconds and we both laugh. She knows too well that I love to eat her luscious pussy.

I jump onto the bed, flip her over, yank her hips up and press my face between her cheeks.

“Hold yourself open,” I tell her.

She reaches back and spreads herself.

“That’s it, baby.” My tongue drags through her slit, presses into her cunt, fucks her for several strokes until she groans. I bring my tongue up and swirl it around her sweet rosebud. My fingers find her swollen clit, pinch and rub. She whimpers and moans louder.

“Faster,” she begs. “Faster.”

My fingers rotate with lightning speed against her clit as my tongue drills into her ass.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries. “Yes. Yes. Yes."

Her ass convulses around my tongue and her cunt drips as she cums hard.

I don’t wait for her to level out. I flip her over, push her thighs apart and press my open mouth against her throbbing pussy.

I can’t get enough of her.

Salty Spasms

I lick your balls, suck each one into my mouth, lap at them with my tongue.

Pre-cum drips down the length of your cock and I fist my hand around your hard shaft, stroke your glorious length while I suck your balls.

You pull my hair, shift my head and tap your wet cock against my mouth. I flick out my tongue, taste your salty goodness. My lips open, take your crown into my mouth.

Your head drops back and you thrust your hips, push into my mouth. I groan, close my eyes, wrap my hand around your cock. As my mouth fucks your hard cock, my hand grips you like a vice. Faster and faster, I take you in, your hips rocking as you shove in and out of my mouth.

You hold my head in place, grunting, egging me to suck you harder.

“That’s it,” you chant. “That’s it. Yeah, that’s it.”

With a final vicious thrust, you shoot into the back of my throat. I wrap my arms around your ass and take you in as far as I can, reveling in your salty spasms.

Do it again

His cock presses into me, slow at first, then faster and faster. Hard, fierce thrusts drive me to the edge where I hover.

“I need you inside me,” I groan.

“I’m fucking you, baby.”

I close my eyes, press down to take all of him inside me as deep as his cock will go. “You know what I mean.”

He kisses my mouth and grins. “Yes I do,”

His hand caresses my ass, squeezes one cheek, then inches over until his finger finds my anus. He circles it, teasing me, until I groan. Then he presses into me.

“Yes!” Triumphant, I lean back, ride his cock as his finger fucks my ass.

In only five strokes, he makes me cum.

“Do it again,” I beg.

Not Done

He presses his cock inside me, gliding easily into the wetness.

“Fuck yes,” I groan.

He pumps his hips, thrusting into me, dragging me close to climax. But I hover just at the edge, the blissful release held at bay.

“I need you inside me,” I whisper in his ear.

“I am inside you baby.”

“No.” I take his hand, press it against my ass. “Here.”

His finger circles my pink rosebud, teasing, stroking.

“Put it in,” I beg, reaching back and nudging his hand.

He presses his finger into my ass and I groan. “Yes!”

He pumps into me–cunt and ass–and the effect is immediate. The orgasm rips through me, and I cry out.

“Fuck!”

I drop onto him, limp.

“I’m not done,” he says.

I smile into his neck. “Good. Neither am I.”

Greedy Girl

"Don’t move," I tell her, as I brush my cheek against her thigh.

"I promise," she replies, and closes her eyes, lets her head fall back against the pillow.

I trail gentle kisses along her labia, flick my tongue just inside the soft folds, swirling around but never touching her clit. It’s a technique I know drives her crazy, but she doesn’t move.

"Good girl," I tell her.

She only sighs.

"You’re so wet," I moan, pressing two fingers into her snug cunt. "Jesus, so fucking wet."

She grunts, but still doesn’t move. I slide my fingers in and out, slow and tortuous. The only thing that moves is her belly, as she pants, and her cunt, as it clamps around my fingers.

I cannot continue torturing her like this. Not because I care about her, but because I want this vixen to let go. I know what she’s like when she lets go.

"Okay, baby."

"Oh, fuck!" she cries, and opens her thighs wide.

She grabs my hair and presses my face into her pussy. She grinds against my mouth as my fingers piston in and out of her dripping cunt. My tongue, feverish with need, laps at her clit.

"Yes! Yes!" She is wild with need now. Hands tangle in my hair, press my face into her. Hips rock with a crazed frenzy, until she convulses around my fingers.

"More," she says, when her breathing slows.

"Greedy girl," I say, but grin and press my open mouth against her clit, more than happy to oblige.

Teacher's Pet

“Can everyone see?” Evan asked as he knelt on the bed.

An affirmative murmur rippled through the semi-circle of men behind him.

“Good. Then we’ll begin the lesson.” His gaze lifted to the model who lay prone before him. Arms relaxed, linked above her head, dark hair fanned out around her. “Open your legs, Mona.”

She sucked in a breath, spread her thighs.

Evan leaned forward, inhaled the heady scent of her cunt. “You want to start with a slow lick, between the labia, avoiding the clit.” He demonstrated with several long, slow strokes until Mona squirmed. “If you’re doing it right, your lover will respond.”

Students jotted notes, shared whispered comments.

“Open her thighs…” he pressed Mona’s legs apart and she arched her back “…and open your mouth. Drag your tongue from her cunt to her clit and back.” His head bobbed up and down as he showed the class. “Do it until…”

Mona let out a feral moan, chanting “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“…until she starts to pant. She may grab your hair or your face. She may not. Perhaps she’s holding onto the sheets to keep from floating off the bed.”

This remark brought a few chuckles from the class.

Evan turned his head to face his students. “Don’t laugh. If you’re doing it right, she should be levitating off the mattress.”

Mona grabbed his head and pushed it back between her thighs. He laughed. “And if you’re doing it right, she’ll do that.” His voice was muffled as she pushed him against her. “Keep eating her sweet pussy. Pay particular attention to her clit. Push your tongue into her cunt, lick her asshole if she lets you.”

Mona’s moans were loud and hungry as Evan devoured her. “Eventually she’ll start to…ah, see? Her hips will rock in an age-old dance. She can’t help herself. Her body’s natural response is to fuck. It’s her way of telling you she wants more. She NEEDS more. So give it to her.”

He moved so fast that several of the students didn’t see the technique. They would have to watch it later on the DVD that was included with the tuition fee.

Evan had her knees pinned back, legs spread wide as he fed on her pussy. “Using your tongue, push back the clit’s protective hood and suck. She’ll cum hard and fast.”

As if to prove his point, Mona cried out his name as her back bowed in a perfect arc.

“This will be on the exam, gentlemen.” Evan kissed Mona’s thigh and sat up.

She sent him a pouty look. “Is class over?”

“Would you like more?”

Mona nodded. “Oh god, yes!”

Evan lay down between her legs, spread her labia wide. “And there will be bonus points if she asks for more.”

Mona groaned as he dragged his tongue along her clit. When she pulled her knees back, spread her lips for him, he knew he’d be putting in overtime.

“Class dismissed,” he muttered as he eased two fingers into her wet cunt.

 

Can't Get Enough

He squeezed her breast, thumbed the erect nipple. She fisted his hair and pushed him against her. His hot, wet mouth devoured her pussy.

“Harder,” she panted. “Harder. Harder.”

His tongued dipped down, teased her asshole and she moaned.

“Yes. Yes.”

His finger slid through the folds of her wet pussy, pushed into the heat of her cunt. Her hips thrust up, begging for release.

He pressed his open mouth on her pussy once again and she groaned. His mouth was relentless against her clit, as his finger pressed into her, made slow, easy strokes into her tight ass.

“Oh, fuck, yes!”

She came hard, her ass convulsing around his finger, her pussy dripping honey into his mouth.

“Again,” she begged. “Make me cum again. I can’t get enough of you.”

He smiled against her pussy. “My greedy little slut.”

Guidance

Sitting on the kitchen counter, I grip the edge, as if it’s a life preserver. He stands in front of me, naked. A bead of pre-cum clings to the shiny head of his cock. I lick my lips…fuck, I want to taste him!...but he backs away.

I try to suppress it, but a whimper escapes. I want him. I need him. I think he’s going to walk away, leave me needy, leave me to satisfy myself. Again.

But then he steps forward, pushes my knees apart, nudges his wet cock against my clit.

I moan. “Please. I need you inside me.”

“Not yet,” he says, and continues to tease my pussy. The build-up is unbearable and I rock my hips, maneuver to get his cock inside me, but he moves.

He drops to his knees, shoves my thighs apart, leans forward and clamps his mouth on my pussy. Relentless, he feasts like a starved animal, his tongue drilling against my clit until I cum hard.

I’m still panting, pulsing from the orgasm, when he shoves my knees back, drags his tongue between my pussy lips. He eases a finger into my cunt, pulls out, then presses two fingers in. He slides them in and out, slow and easy.

Greedy need pulses through me and I wrap my hands around my knees, pull my thighs wider.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans and spreads my lips apart to suck at my clit.

I love when he does this and I cum again, chanting “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He kisses my mouth, and I can taste my own salty goodness on his lips. He stands back, though his cock still presses against my pussy.

I thrust against him, but he shifts again. Frustrated, I grab his cock, wrap my fist around it in a death grip. He closes his eyes, groans, pushes into my fist.

Triumphant, I shove his thick cock into my cunt, wrap my legs around his waist.

“Hard and fast,” I tell him.

Digging his fingers into my hips, he obeys and slams into me over and over, until I cum. My pussy is still quivering when he gives one final thrust and shoots deep inside me.

Lonely

Their marriage has been dead for weeks, months—oh, who the hell is she kidding? It’s been dead for years.

They’re still friends, but they stopped being lovers a long time ago. She has tried the sexy teddies, the dirty talk, but nothing seems to animate him. His response is…well, it’s less than impassioned.

I’m okay with it, is her standard response when her girlfriends ask. She has said it so many times that she is almost convinced.

Almost.

When she’s honest, she admits she wants a hand to caress her body, a breathy voice to tell her she’s wanted. Needed. She can’t remember the last time she felt needed.

To satisfy the urges, to relieve some of the tension that builds between her thighs, she scans through Tumblr, selecting gifs that reflect her fantasies. She perverts each stream into an image of him with her, can all but feel him push apart her thighs.

Not the one she has, you understand, but the one she wants. The one who wants her.

He would moan, she imagines, as his open mouth presses against her pussy, his full lips sucking on her clit.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” One syllable is all she can manage as her fingers clench his hair.

She can hardly keep a thought in her head as his fingers push into her cunt, stroke in and out, dragging her to the edge.

She whimpers when he pulls his hand away and she feels his lips smile against her.

“Tell me,” he says, as his wet fingers stroke her ass, tease the pink rosebud. “Is this what you need?”

“Please,” she moans. “Please!” He presses into her and she opens her thighs wider, pushes her hips up. His mouth is hungry against her, dragging her up higher, building the pressure. His finger slides in and out of her ass in slow, tortuous strokes.

“Mmm, sweetheart? Is this what you need?”

“Fuck, yes.” The orgasm is powerful and her cunt throbs with it as she pulses around the finger that continues to slide in and out of her ass.

“Good,” he says. “We’re just getting started.”

She closes her eyes, alone in the quiet darkness of her bedroom, waits until the pulsing stops before she turns on her vibrator once more, lets herself sink back into the fantasy and makes herself cum once more.

A Night at the Opera

“I hate the opera,” grumbled Erica, as she furled and unfurled the two-page program. She had noticed two typos when she skimmed through it. How good could the production be?

As the orchestra tuned up, random notes of mediocre music drifted through the audience, though the term audience was pushing it a bit. Forty-two people in an auditorium that held two-fifty hardly qualified as an audience.

But there it was.

And so was Erica. Sitting in the back row of a near-empty auditorium, waiting for a fat broad with humongous boobs to come out on stage and sing at an octave only dogs would hear. It wasn’t over until she did. That, my friends, is a known fact.

“You agreed to come with me tonight.” Jason’s face was deadpan as he reached over, pressed his hand on her bouncing knee. He pressed just hard enough to make his point. Stop making a scene. Or else.

Erica stilled her leg, slumped back in her seat. She had worn her favorite evening dress—a black mid-thigh flare—and a lacy garter. She had spent thirty minutes on her hair, twenty on her makeup.

For this. This small-town, amateur freak show.

“That’s better.” Jason rewarded her with a light kiss on her cheek as the lights dimmed and the orchestra played the opening notes.

Pouting in the dark, Erica watched performers with worn costumes and tired voices drag through their scenes.

She deserved to be rewarded for this, for sitting through singers that sounded like cats in heat. She deserved to be rewarded for giving in to Jason’s ridiculous whims, his drive to support local arts. She deserved…

Her head swiveled over to him when his hand creeped up her leg, under her dress, fingered the hook of her garter that rested well up her thigh.

Erica smiled into the darkness of the near-empty theater. She swiveled her head back and faced the actors, let her head tilt back and spread her thighs in carefree invitation. Oh, yeah, she deserved this.

Jason’s hand slid up her thigh, his finger grazing the folds of her pussy.

“You’re already wet,” he breathed into her ear as he palmed her.

Two fingers dipped down, came back up—lubed—to stroke her clit. She could only nod as wave after wave of need ripped through her.

“You like when I finger you, don’t you?”

She nodded again. “Don’t stop.” She meant to sound demanding, but it came out more like a whimper.

That didn’t matter. Jason knew what she wanted. He thrust two fingers into her pussy and fucked into her with lightning speed.

The sucking noises of her wet cunt matched the tempo of the music as he pounded his fingers into her. Her moans melted with the aria, seemed to harmonize with the players. And when Jason made her cum, her cries of release were drowned out by the ear-splitting falsetto of the fat lady.

Tied to her

The charity ball went late; the band was pumping music and everyone danced well past two. It was almost three when they got home.

She walked in ahead of him, stopped in the foyer as he let the door close behind him. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he flicked the lock.

Dusky light from the library washed the hall like candlelight.

She reached back, unzipped her dress. She shifted her left shoulder, then the right, let the dress fall down in a puddle around her feet. She took two steps toward him wearing nothing but three-inch stilettos.

He was instantly hard, rubbed a hand against his cock.

A breath apart, she pressed her hand against his. “Let me do that.”

He dropped his hand, but she didn’t replace it. Instead, she dropped to her knees, helped him with his shoes. She unzipped his pants, nudged them down.

“Mmmmm.” She rubbed her cheek against his cock. “You went commando, too.”

She cupped his balls as he stepped out of his pants, swirled her tongue over the head of his cock, relished the fat bead of pre-cum that clung to him. She took him in her mouth, just the head, sucking him as she massaged his sack.

He wanted to take his time, enjoy fucking her mouth, but she felt so god dammed good.

He undid his cuffs, loosened his tie, unbuttoned the collar.

She pulled back with a loud pop. “You can take the shirt off, but leave the tie on.”

He grinned down at her. “If you keep the shoes on.”

She nodded. “Deal.”

She took him in as far as she could, gagged a little. He let his shirt fall to the floor as his head dropped back against the wall and he groaned.

She reached up with one hand to stroke his tie, matching each thrust into her mouth, as if the silk were an extension of his cock.

When he shot down her throat, she yanked hard on the tie, as if she were cumming herself.