On the Beach, Part 12

Previous episodes.

After the unexpected tryst with Chuck and Bridget we went shopping. Avril led me from one quaint shop to the next and I attracted attention everywhere I went. I was learning that if a woman wants to feel like a sex-goddess, all she needs to do is to do everything completely naked.

I chose a few dresses that I especially liked, a new bikini, and a few more casual outfits. I protested at the price tags but Avril continue to urge me to buy. Lingerie, sexy jeans, tops and sandals — the whole nine. I felt spoiled, and guilty.

“It’s too much,” I said.

“No, revel in this moment. You are becoming a new Tara, you can at least have some new clothes.”

The irony that I was shopping entirely naked wasn’t lost on me. I carried shopping bags with cute outfits but I was bare from tit to toe. The shop girls definitely gave me the eye, giggling and whispering behind their hands.

“Is this a feminist statement?” one young woman asked me.

“More like an art project,” I said, using Avril’s line from earlier.

“Don’t you feel unsafe?” another woman asked while I was checking out.

“Yes, rather,” I said.

Literally every man I’d passed today probably wanted to fuck me, and some of them were not good men.

“You’re very brave,” she said, ringing up a flimsy top that cost more than it should but was cute as sin. “I worry when my skirt’s too short, but here you are completely naked. Like it’s no big deal.”

On our way home I commented to Avril on the experience. I was getting used to the nudity, the feeling exposed, the stares and the snapshots.

“I didn’t expect to meet so many people this way,” I said.

Avril nodded. “Clothing is a barrier against the world. It quite literally is, if you think about it. By going naked you’ve opened yourself to them. Nudity is the state you’re in during the intimate moments, when the walls come down. It encourages others to join your intimacy, in good and bad ways.”

I thought of Chuck and Bridget, strangers who had shared a sexual moment with me. They would never have given me a second look if I hadn’t been nude. The comments, lewd and thoughtful, were only directed to me because I’d bared myself, let myself be vulnerable to them.

“Yes,” Avril said, smiling as we climbed the steps to the flat. “You’re learning very quickly.”

“Also, thank you so much for buying all of the things. I will pay you back soon.”

“No, these things were to help you feel beautiful, and I don’t want money in return. But they’re not gifts, per se. You will earn these privileges.”

We had lunch on the balcony with a view of the sea. I didn’t bother to dress, and Avril joined me by taking off her clothes as well. She was really something: curvy and magnificent. We ate, talked, and the afternoon drew on.

“It’s time for my client,” she said.

I’d forgotten that Avril gave blowjobs to an exclusive list of men in exchange for money. She hugged me, and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. Then she tweaked a nipple, making me yip.

“Dear Tara, you were splendid this morning, and I’m very turned on by you right now. So brave, so bright. You’re a perfect student. If it weren’t for the no-orgasm rule I’d eat your pussy for days on end.”

In my hyper-aroused state, her words made me heady. “I’d like that,” I said, thrumming. “But there’s no rule against me giving you an orgasm, is there?”

Avril laughed, genuinely amused. “There is not such a rule.”

“Well, spread those thighs, pretty lady,” I said, getting down on my knees on the rough tiles.

“Mmm, I would love to, but I’m running short on time.”

“Oh. Shit. I’ll make it quick.”

“Tara, I’m not sure I have time…”

“Five minutes, I swear it,” I said, urging her to sit back down.

“You’re very bossy for someone who claims not to be sexually aggressive,” she said as I parted her thighs and dove in.

To be honest, I’d never gone down on a woman before, but I felt confident that I knew the territory well enough I could get her off. Her pussy was lush, her labia fat and succulent, her scent rich and earthy. I started at her root, my tongue dipping into her well, gathering her syrup. Avril grabbed hold of my head and pulled me against her cunt, sighing. I flicked and rolled my tongue over her clitoris, suckling it gently. She squirmed. I pushed two fingers into her, fingers and tongue working together in wet harmony.

“Oh, Tara, that’s wonderful,” she moaned. “But I don’t have time.”

“Please, Avril,” I begged. “I can do this.”

“If you want me to come quickly, it’s not going to be like this,” she said.

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the couch, practically tossing me down and clambering on top of me. In a moment she straddled my face and pressed her cunt down, smothering me. I was drowning in her juices. My tongue, my lips seemed almost useless as she ground her hips down. She literally fucked my face, using me for friction, drenching me in her juices. I stared up her front, watched her breasts sway and her eyes pinch shut in sheer concentration on her own pleasure. I could barely breathe. I did my best to kiss her, lap at her cunt, but I felt my ministrations were secondary. Avril knew what she needed, and she was taking it the way she wanted it.

I was helpless and dizzy as she ground down on me. Everything once again melted into cunt, except this time it was hers: in my mouth, over my nose, smothering me, fucking me. It reminded me of drowning. I was helpless pinned between Avril’s hips.

She grabbed my hair, and pressed her hips down harder. She ground her pubes on me, finding friction on my chin and against my nose. I moaned, uncomfortable but wanting her to finish. Avril crumbled with a cry. She started shaking, and moaning, and she kept grinding, and then… I felt her pussy. I felt it twitching against my lips, my tongue. I’d never known another woman’s orgasm. I felt so in sync with her that I could almost feel her contractions in my own body.

Avril lay gasping for minutes, and then climbed off of my face.

I smiled. I glistened with her. “Well, that just happened,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Tara,” Avril said, hastening to the bathroom. “I’m already late and I had to use you a bit to get myself off.”

“That’s what I wanted,” I said.

“I can get a bit rough,” she shouted from the bathroom.

“I’m not complaining,” I said.

“You can eat me out properly when I have more time, and I’ll return the favor,” she said.

“I’ll put it on the calendar.”

Dressed and prettied up, Avril kissed my forehead on the way out.

“Thanks for the orgasm, Tara. You’re a good sport.”

And she was out the door.

Shockingly Real

Caution: rape triggers.

The doorbell rings.

“Finally,” I say. I’m exasperated that the repair guy has taken so long to get here.

“Whatever,” he says.

He’s not very nice. I know that from the start. But he’s nice to look at for sure: muscular; silky black hair; angry brown eyes; a tattoo that covers his forearm. His scent is both foreign and familiar, a hint of cloves and the tang of testosterone.

Some men are comfortable, the kind you take to brunch and to visit grandma in the nursing home. As soon as I see him leaning cockily on my doorstep I know that he is not such a man. He is the other sort of man, the sort that eyes a woman like she’s little more than a bit of wet flesh and friction, a masturbation toy with real breasts.

He is a bad man. And as soon as I see him, I know he’s going to fuck me before he leaves. For three heartbeats I leave the screen door closed and stare at him as my heart chugs faster. I shouldn’t let him into my home.

Yet I open the door like a fool. Not because I think the best of him, but because I think the worst. I hope that he will do what his eyes say he’s capable of doing to me.

My better judgment is screaming to get smart. This is a dangerous game with a dangerous man. But my better judgment isn’t winning.

I lead him into my house. I’m home alone, of course. He’s here to repair things. What exactly he repairs varies each time I tell myself this story. Sometimes he’s a plumber, sometimes the cable guy. But he’s strong and primal, and he’s an outsider in my home.

I go about my business while the guy works but I make sure I’m always in his line of sight. I sit on the couch and sort through some bills, sometimes carelessly uncrossing my legs, making sure that he can peek up my skirt (and knowing that he’s paying attention).


After a bit, I up the ante and change into my bikini. He’s kneeling next to the thing he’s fixing and I’m standing over him.

“You’re taking long enough,” I say rudely.

“It takes as long as it takes,” he says.

“I’m going to be sunbathing by the pool,” I say. “Just give a holler when you’re done.”

His eyes drift to my breasts, lingering for a long moment before they slide back to my face.

“You know, this is a nice neighborhood,” he says. “I haven’t been around here before. You stay home?”

“I’m just home for the day,” I say. “So you could come.”

“Yeah, so I could come.”

His eyes plunder my curves shamelessly. I blush.

“Hey, dude,” I say. “I’m up here.”

“I know where you are,” he says and my heart skips two beats. “You got a husband, a boyfriend?”

He’s scoping out my territory, trying to see if I’m easy prey or not.

“My husband isn’t going to be home for hours,” I say.

I walk into his trap with eyes wide open. I know what I’m doing — at least I think I do. Soon, it’s going to be too late to back out of this little game I’m playing.

He nods. “It’s too bad that he lets you out of his sight. I mean, too bad for him.”

“I’m a big girl and can take care of myself,” I say.

A grin curls his cheek. “I’m a big boy, too.”

“I bet you are.”

I sense his aggression, his desire. I can almost smell it.

I wonder how it’s going to happen. He might straight up proposition me, but I think he seems like the predatory type: more of a take first, ask questions later guy. I’m okay with that.


He grunts and goes back to work.

“Just holler when you’re done?” I say for a second time.

He nods. “I’ll be sure you know when I’ve finished,” he says.

The words make me quiver with a perverse glee. Did I just catch a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth? I walk to the pool. The paving stones are hot underfoot, the backyard is like a blast-furnace. I glance back and see him starting at my ass as I walk away. He doesn’t bother to look down.

Oh, he’s going to fuck me. I just don’t know when, or where, or how.





He has a threatening energy, like a Spartan riding an electric panther through a firestorm. His energy scares me but it also turns me on. When he’s close I can sense my proximity to being plundered. He awakens something raw and primal, deep in my abdomen. It’s a feeling that I can’t get (no way, no how) from my husband, as much as I love him.

I bask in the sun for what feels like a long time, periodically glancing to make sure he’s still there. I take a swim to cool down and climb the ladder nearest the living room so I’m sure he gets a good view of me dripping wet.

He’s gone.

Heart racing, I enter the house. Silence. My gut twirls. I can hear my pulse in my head.

Where did he go? I’m terrified. The adrenaline gives me a sick high. I walk the whole house, looking for him. I notice that the front door is ajar and his truck is gone. He’s got to come back, I haven’t signed for the work. I deliberately leave the door open a crack.

I hadn’t expected him to disappear, but if he wants to play this game I’ll play it all the way.

I strip out of my suit and take a quick shower. I’m drying my hair with a towel, totally naked, as I walk into the master bedroom. I fully expected him to be there, waiting for me, maybe already on the bed, but the room is empty.

Maybe he got spooked. A panther like him can sense a trap a mile away.

The door closes behind me. I scream, whipping around.

He looks me up and down, taking in every inch of my naked body. He sizes me up. My cheeks flush.

“Don’t scream again,” he says. “You’re going to keep quiet until this is over.”

I nod.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls a good-sized cock out of his pants and approaches me. It’s short but really thick, and it hardens as I watch.

“Get me wet,” he orders me. “Don’t bite.”

He presses his cock-head against my lips. I open for him and he thrusts into my mouth. He holds my head and I quiver as he pushes to the back of my throat. I cough and he pulls out.

“Spit on it,” he says, and I do. He strokes his hard cock. “Spread your legs.”

I’m on the bed. He pushes me onto my back and parts my thighs. He rubs his cock-head up and down on my pussy. I’m soaking wet.

“You want me, don’t you?” he says when he sees how wet I am.

I want to say yes, but my lips won’t form the word. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I want him, even though I do.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs. “I’m gonna make that pretty little cunt come.”

I think he’s going to penetrate me. I close my eyes. I ignore the arousal swirling hot in my belly.

Instead of spearing me with his cock, he just rubs his tip over my folds, picking up the moisture there and flirting with my hole. I stay still, scared of what he might do to me, excited by what he might do to me. He rubs his cock on my clit. Tingles.

I bite my lower lip, trying not to vocalize my desire. I’m horny as hell. I want this jerk, but too proud to let him know it.

He grabs his thick dick in his fist and pumps it, like he’s going to jerk off right onto my pussy, but he’s really rubbing that fat tip all over my clit. I’m wet — really wet — and his dick is slick with my moisture. My pussy makes wet sounds as he rubs himself all over. I can’t help myself, my breathing is fast, my stomach is rising and falling with desire.

I still don’t moan for him.

“I know you want it, baby,” he growls. “Beg me not to fuck you.”

“You’re not my boss,” I gasp.

But he is. He is totally my boss in every way that matters right now. I literally couldn’t stop him if I tried. That ship has sailed.

He rubs his cock faster and faster, grinding his flesh hard against my clit. I can’t stop my hips, I push them into the air, toward him. I look down, I need to see. He grins. I resent him for being such a dick and love the feeling he’s giving me. His cock-head parts my folds and massages my bud. The tingling is so fucking intense.

“You ready for me to fucking own your cunt?”

“I don’t care,” I say, but my voice is more of a moan.

He grabs my face and leans down close. I smell his sweat. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. You hear?”

I quake. “I know.”

The tip of his penis is violent purple, fat, the angry color of a bruise.

Goddammit, just fuck me already.

Just to show me he has control, he won’t penetrate me yet. He’s intent on making me come first. I know he wants to hear me cry out with pleasure and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing my orgasm face. But I can’t hide the arousal flooding through me much longer.

He smiles. “Oh, you’re gonna cum like my little bitch,” he says.

I part my lips with a gasp — still resisting, staying silent. I tense, trying to keep the orgasm at bay. If I come, I will scream, and he wins. But I don’t think I can stop it. He’s rubbing his cock-head rapidly right against my clit. Every stroke he’s so close to impaling me. It’s awesome torture, and there’s no way I can hold out for long.

But I try. I resist with every fiber of my being, knowing that when the dam bursts I will be lost.

I grab the bed sheets in both hands. I stare at the ceiling, trying to avoid the burgeoning tingling that threatens to overwhelm me. I think of my husband. What would he think if he could see me now, spreadeagled on our marriage bed with a predator doing his worst to make me come? What would he think if he knew I loved it?

The man uses his cock-free hand to force my chin toward him. He’s still wearing his t-shirt but his pants are around his ankles.

“Look at me when I’m pleasuring you,” he says.

The asshole, I think. So damned cocky. But I do what he wants. I keep my eyes on him the whole time. I’m so turned on I can’t stand it. His cock is just right, exactly where it is, sliding up and down my slick folds, his glans rubbing my tender star.  I can feel how he masturbates himself, strokes his shaft, every motion of his fist on cock translating into a tingling pleasure drizzling through my core. I hold still, trying my best to keep my hips from rocking. My nipples are hard as little pebbles and my breast rises and falls in times to his stroking.

I tremble with pleasure.

“I’ve never made a girl’s pussy so soaking wet,” he groans.

“I’m not a girl,” I say. “I’m a woman.”

“Did I say girl? I meant you’re my little cunt,” he says.

“I’m not yours,” I say.

“You’re gonna be.”

I don’t know who I think I’m fooling. He’s right, my pussy has never been so soaking wet. I’m leaving a wet mark on the bed and he’s not even fucked me yet.

I want to be used. I want him to want me so bad he can’t help but fuck me. He’s a bad man, dangerous, and I shouldn’t encourage him. Every wrong thing he does makes me want it even more. The tension between good and bad, pleasure and pain makes me dissolve into a puddle of lust.

His face turns red. I can tell how hot he’s getting. I wonder if he can keep at it, stroking my clit with the sensitive head of his cock like that. I know his cock-head must be tingling as fiercely as my clit. I wonder if he’s going to pop off all over my pussy. That makes me even hotter.

I wriggle and squirm. My orgasm is unavoidable now.

He’s going to get his way. He’s going to make me moan. And he’s fucking right: I want him. I need him to take me.

I whimper. It’s the first real noise I’ve made.

“Oh, yeah. Now we’re getting to the good stuff, baby,” he says.

He doesn’t relent. I have no other option but to squirm. I chew on my lip, watching the veins on his neck pop out. The jerking motion of his fist is urgent and for a second I think he’s going to spill. It’s too much for me to bear. I thrust my hips toward him, quivering.

I gaze at him like a doe.

“Come,” he commands me.

I let out a groan.

“Come,” he says again.

Yes. Yes, I’m going to. I’m going to… Keep rubbing me there.

I spread my thighs wider and grip the sheets harder and bite my lip until it hurts. The tingling is intense. He can see I’m close. He goes a little faster, a little faster. I’m on the edge…

“Oh, god,” I moan. I shudder. I choke on my words. A scream huddles in my throat. The heat, the pulse, the buildup!

Not quite… I need him to keep going just a little more.

He knows I’m almost there and does something unexpected. Just as I’m at the edge of the abyss he thrusts himself into my pussy and starts fucking me hard.

I scream with surprise and my pussy unleashes. I clench and spasm around that thick shaft. It’s brutally effective, shockingly real. My whole body shudders as a wave of urgency unleashes, squeezing him. I’m left moaning and writhing with pleasure. He doesn’t let me escape or wriggle away. He’s got my thighs locked wide open and he just thrust-thrust-thrusts right to the hilt. I’m in an agony of orgasmic delight.

His cock feels incredible inside of me. I’m so turned on. Better than my husband, I think with awful guilt. Better than the best fuck I’ve ever had.

I hate him for that. He can’t be my best. But the spasms of pleasure just won’t stop. I’m totally at the mercy of his cock.

His face is bright red. He thrusts like an animal. I cry out and moan. I’ve given up pretending. I like it. I love it. I need it. My sounds spur him on. He’s bouncing me, slapping into me with a vengeance. I stretch my arms up over my head. He grabs my tits and squeezes them hard. I yelp with pleasure.

“Take your shirt off,” I gasp.

I want to see him. I can tell from his arms and his bare abdomen that’s he’s cut. He doesn’t stop fucking me for a moment, but he rips his shirt off. His chest is awesome. Pure muscle, tattoos and sweat. I can clearly see his abs flexing as he fucks me.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan.

“You like it,” he says. His face is primal, greedy.

“Just fuck me,” I say.

He doesn’t disappoint. I’ve never been rammed so hard. It’s good. I’m sore but loving it. I’ve never been taken like this. My pussy is just a fountain as his thick shaft impales me over and over again. I’m bouncing and crying out and way beyond the point of any resistance to him. I wrap my ankles around his back and let him have me.

I come again, my pussy clutching greedily at his cock. I’ve never had an orgasm from just a cock. It’s an awesome feeling.

He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. He’s in the final stretch. Our eyes are locked. His body strains and he drips sweat on me. He’s like a rutting beast. My pussy slaps and sucks at his dick as he plows me. His veins pop out, rippling across his neck and arms. I’m so turned on by his intensity.

He stiffens and yells. He clutches my hips and buries his cock deep inside. He closes his eyes and comes like crazy in my hungry cunt. I rock my hips and savor the feeling of the workout I’ve just gotten. I’m utterly soaked and ache from the orgasms and the pounding.

“You’re a good fuck,” he says, tucking away his cock and pulling his shirt back on.

I sit up on the bed, my hair a mess. I don’t know what to do now. He waits for me to say something. I want to thank him and slap him in the same breath.

“Fuck you,” I say.

I mean it. He’s a jerk. He can’t do shit like this to women, but I’m glad that he did it to me.

He sticks his middle finger inside of my pussy and pulls it out, glistening with our combined fluids. He wipes it on my cheek like he’s marking me.

Without a word he pulls his pants up and leaves silently.

The rest of the afternoon I’m not sure what to do with my restless energy. I masturbate, thinking about the repair guy fucking me, trying to burn off my moral turpitude.



When my husband gets home there’s no sign of what happened, of course. I’ve showered, neatened the bed and gotten all primped up.

“How are you, hon?” he says, kissing me on the cheek. “You smell nice.”

“Thanks,” I say, giving him a smile. The heinous secret of my afternoon pulsates deep in my belly.

“Did the repair guy come?” he says.

“Yes, he did,” I say, blushing.

He looks at me funny. “What’s up with you?”

“Let’s go on a date tonight,” I say, distracting him with my brightest smile.

“Do you have something up your sleeve? Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m just hungry,” I say. “I just want a night out with my husband.”

Later, in the dark privacy of our master bed, my husband is eagerly suckling at my cunt. He’s doing his best work, I’m honestly impressed. I’m moaning and arching my back. What he doesn’t know is that he’s tasting my honey mingled with the cum from my rapist’s thick and plundering cock. The thought alone makes me cum as I force my spouse to clean up my dirty deeds with his eager tongue.

On the Beach, Part 11

Previous episodes.

Next we visited a cramped bookstore that smelled like old leaves. There was a black-and-white cat roaming the place, and it rubbed itself against my calves. The sensation of that soft, long fur was almost unbearable in my heightened state. I picked out a leather-bound journal with rough-edged pages. I liked the weight and size of it. It felt right in my hand. The owner of the store was a skinny, older man with little hair left. He watched us with a disapproving frown as we browsed and then purchased a journal.

“He doesn’t approve,” I said to Avril.

“Yes, but he keeps sneaking glances at you,” she replied.

“I wonder why?” I said sarcastically.

“Maybe because you’re completely naked,” she said with a laugh.

We were just about to leave when a couple approached us. I guessed that they were my age, or a bit older. The guy had dark hair, kind, blue eyes and a bit of scruff on his cheeks. She was petite, cute and red-haired, with a winning smile.

“Hi, I’m Chuck,” the guy said. He shook hands with me and Avril, as did the girl. “This is my girlfriend Bridget.”

“You’re from the States?” I said.

“Canada,” he said.

They looked like the outdoorsy type.

“I’m sorry,” Chuck said. “I don’t mean to bother you ladies, but I’m just really impressed with how much guts it takes to walk around naked.”

“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “I’m kinda impressed with myself right now.” I laughed. I sounded nervous.

“Honestly,” Bridget said, grinning. “Exhibitionism is something that Chuck and I have been talking about now for a long time.”

“Really?” Avril said, brushing back a strand of purple hair from her forehead. “You may be our kind of people.”

“Well, we go nude a lot at home,” Bridget said brightly. She was a bit too chipper for my liking, but nice enough. “And we’ve done some nude beaches, and stuff like that. And a few sex parties.”

“It’s just refreshing to see somebody just out in the world, letting it all hang out. And you look amazing, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I said. I could tell that he wanted me.

“We’re doing a little training of Tara here,” Avril said.


“Yes, I’m breaking down her socialization in a process that will reduce her to her essence, which is to be a Vessel.”

“Oh, so it’s like a 50 Shades thing?” Bridget asked.

Avril frowned. It was the first time I’d seen her disapprove of something.

“Think of it like a spiritual awakening,” Avril said. “When we’re done with her, Tara will embrace her essential cunthood. And with that she’ll find freedom.”

The corner of Bridget’s lip frowned slightly when Avril said the word ‘cunt’. I judged her for that, taking it to mean that she wasn’t as free-spirited as she pretended to be. But then again, I was an bundle of repression, so who was I to judge?

“I’m a little jealous of you,” Bridget said to me, glancing at Chuck for assurance.

The shop-owner glared at us, but said nothing.

“I don’t want to be too forward, but do you mind if we get a few pictures with you?”

Chuck got close on one side and Bridget (rather shorter than me) on the other side. Both of them put an arm around my back, as one does in pictures, only it seemed strange to have Chuck’s hand was on my naked hip. And it turned me on, the incongruity of it, and the warmth of Bridget’s little body, and the rough fabric of their clothes against my very smooth skin. Avril snapped a few photos with Chuck’s phone.

It was all quite simple until Bridget touched me. Her hand reached out, fingertips resting on my abdomen. The touch was electric. I was already tuned so tightly I felt like all my strings might break. I let out a deep sigh, and felt a bundle of inhibitions escape. She just rested her hand on my bare belly, just above my curls. There was nothing sexual about it, but everything sexual about it.

She gazed up at me with her pale blue eyes. Chuck pulled me a little closer to him. They both smelled like marajuana and a little unwashed. Natural.

It was a moment of stillness. We were all frozen. I could hear my heartbeat. Avril stood and watched, and now the shopkeeper wasn’t even pretending to ignore us. He still frowned, but his full attention was on the four of us. There were no other customers.

“Is this okay?” Bridget said. Her hand trembled like a little bird away from its nest. Oh, and I knew just where that bird belonged.

I took a deep breath and glanced at Avril.

“You may touch her,” Avril said. “Both of you may.”

I shuddered. Oh, how I wanted to be touched.

Bridget smiled. “It’s cute how you have a minder.”

I nodded, but I was breathing fast, aching for Bridget’s fingers to seek my aching nub.

Chuck leaned in and cupped a breast in his palm, moaning slightly. He pinched my nipple and I let out a sharp sigh. So sensitive, so aching for attention.

Avril glanced at the shop-keeper. He watched silently, always frowning, but showed no signs of booting us out or calling the authorities.

“Put your arms over your head,” Avril said in a kind but commanding tone. “Let them explore you.”

I did as she said. Elongating my body made every aching sensation immediately more intense. I let out a low moan.

Explore they did. Bridget, after making the first move, proved to be a bit shy at first. She traced her small fingers over my torso, gradually braving the curls on my mound. I stood still, all of my attention on her touch, aching for her to seek between my legs. My stomach undulated with her every move, my hips gently pressing toward her hand, trying to show her the way. Chuck focused on my breasts, kneading and teasing, pulling on my nipples which made me writhe. He kissed my neck, and then kissed down my chest until his lips found my breasts. He mouthed my tits, sucking the hard nipples and massaging them with his tongue. I let out a shuddering moan. So wet, so ready for more.

Bridget watched my face as her hand moved lower, as she ran her fingers through the curls on my mound. Her eyes were soft. She looked delighted. Her finger dipped between my labia. Every nerve tingled and I almost lost it. I groaned and heard her sharp gasp. Her cheeks were flushed. She was aroused, too.

“You’re really wet,” she said in a voice made deeper with lust.

I glanced at the shop-keeper. He leaned over the counter, watching our every move. He was still frowning, but he was invested now. I noticed that his right hand was hidden in his pocket and realized that he was touching his cock.

Bridget slipped a finger into my well of heat, pushing deeper until she had her palm pressed against my wet flesh. I moaned, spreading my thighs to make it easier for her and grinding against her hand. She held my gaze as she slowly, deftly fingered my cunt while Chuck slaved over my tits with his lips, his scruff rough on my tender skin. I let out a shuddering sigh. I was a bundle of need. If only Bridget’s hand would move to my clitoris I could come in an moment. I bathed in all the attention. But…

“I’m not supposed to come,” I squeaked, forcing the words out of my mouth.

Because the only thing in the whole universe at that moment was the orgasm that lurked deep in my belly, a joyful demon ready to make me forget my name.

“You’re so hot,” Chuck moaned, slurping my nipple. Oh, Jesus, I thought I could come from just his mouth on my tit.

Bridget’s breath was quick and hot. She leaned close, jostling Chuck’s head to come in for a breathless kiss. Her lips, so soft on mine. Her finger, rubbing that spot on the roof of my vagina that sent shivers up my spine. Her thumb barely flicked my clit, but it enough to drive me mad.

“I want to fuck,” Chuck whispered.

Bridget wanted to fuck me, too. She was hungry now, she rubbed her body against me, sighing and moaning.

I was so close to the edge even a breath threatened to tip me over.

“Are you going to come?” Avril said, grinning at me.

“No,” I said. Bridget kissed me, her tongue hot on mine. I let out a moan. “Maybe,” I admitted with a laugh.

“Oh, God, I want to make you come so bad,” Bridget breathed between kisses.

“I’m not allowed to come,” I moaned.

Avril just smiled at me. “You know what to do. Or what not to do.”

“You have to stop,” I said. Both Chuck and Bridget groaned. “You have to stop. I’m not allowed to come.”

Oh, how badly I wanted it. How easily it could have happened. Avril let me lower my arms.

“I’m so hard,” Chuck said. “Look.”

His erection was obvious and his shorts had a wet mark from his arousal. He laughed ruefully.

Bridget looked like she was ready to devour me, but she pulled her hand away from my cunt and rested it on my stomach.

“What now?” she said desperately.

Chuck unzipped, and pulled an impressive erection from his shorts. A moment later, he had Bridget’s shorts around her ankles, pushing into her pussy from behind. I was pinned to the bookcase, Bridget’s body against mine. She was short enough that her head rested naturally on my breast as Chuck fucked her from behind. She moaned. Oh, how she moaned. And she sucked my tits while he fucked her. Her whimpers, the wet noises of her sex, Chuck’s soulful groans filled me.

The door to the shop opened. A startled patron backed out. The shop-keeper didn’t seem to care. He’d stopped pretending and had unzipped his pants, his cock curving from his fly. All around me was sex in one form or another.

I leaned in, my fingers seeking Bridget’s cunt. I found it hot, soaking wet, and full of Chuck’s cock. She whimpered as I rubbed her clitoris. Chucks balls budged against my fingers as he thrust into her. I could feel his slipping, sliding shaft against my fingertips. It was the hottest thing I’d ever exprienced, and Bridget seemed to think so, soo.

Without warning, she started to tremble. Her cries raised in pitch. I rubbed her clit faster, doing the best that I could at the awkward angle. She shuddered and Chuck fucked harder, plowing into her. She bucked, her face bright red, letting out a scream of pleasure as her pussy squeezed around her boyfriend’s cock.

Chuck came too, grunting as he filled Bridget’s cunt with his load. The shop-keeper groaned, coming on the floor behind his counter. When he was done, he disappeared into the back room.

“Oh, fuck,” Chuck said. “That was fucking amazing.”

Bridget kissed me with tender abandoned for a long time, her tongue flirting with mine, her lips soft.

“Maybe we could do this again when you can finish, too?” she said.

“I’d like that,” I said.

Chuck exchanged information with Avril and he and Bridget went their own way.

Hurry Up and Wait

I’m supposed to be working right now, but my mind was wandering to sexy things, so instead I wrote this fun little (sort of true) story to spice up your Friday…

My husband suggested the game.

“Every day this week I’m going to eat you out and make you come, and I won’t even take my pants off.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I said.

“The excitement of licking your pussy,” he said. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Don’t you want to come, too?”

“Friday. On Friday you return the favor.”

As always, I’m down for his little games.


“Pants off, girlie.”

Bottomless and spread on the bed, writhing as his tongue bathes my folds. I come, pulsing with a desire to be filled.

“Fuck me,” I say.

“No,” he says.


Leaning against the wall, legs spread, my man kneeling between. I can see straight out the front window and wonder if anyone can see me. Gushing on his face, I come with an earthquake that almost knocks me down. My man wipes his mouth.

“Good?” he says.

“So good.”

I grab his cock through his jeans. He moans. Damn, he’s so fucking hard.

“Fuck me,” I say.

He pulls away. He almost looks scared of me. “No,” he says.


Crouched over his face on the floor in my office. He’s lapping eagerly at my cunt. I’m brimming, swelling, welling onto him. I want so badly to be filled.

“Fuck my face,” he says.

I do it. I grind down on him. He groans like an animal. He gasps. His tongue, his face, his scruff are electric friction. I cry out, shuddering. My cunt clenches almost painfully. I want a cock inside. His cock, or any cock. Frankly, at that moment I don’t care. I buckle, ease out the last drops of my orgasm’s strength on top of him.

Again I go for his crotch, working his button and zipper. I get him out. He’s erect like he’s twenty again: so hard, veins, stiff as nails. He moans like I’m killing him as my cold hand grabs his shaft. He’s wet. So wet for me. I ache to feel that stiffness inside my cunt.

“No,” he says. “Molly, no.”

I can tell his resolve is failing. I could fuck him right now and he wouldn’t resist.

“You have to stop,” he says reluctantly.

I sigh. “Your loss,” I say.


I’m spread-eagled in my reading chair. I have no pants on but a towel is under my hips. My man is suckling at my pussy like it’s the most wonderful dish he’s ever imagined. Meanwhile, I’m reading a book of erotica out loud, the words catching in my throat as I get close. I keep reading, gasping and heaving, until his tongue drives me over the edge. I come, wet and wonderful, my hips bucking against his lips until I can’t breathe. It’s too much, my clit is on fire.

I drop the book as he lazily brings me down with swirls of his tongue.


“Your turn,” he says.

I kneel and unzip him. He springs forth, his cock mighty and bold. He’s ready. Beyond ready.

His tip: salty and slick. I take him deeply, as deep as I can. He holds onto my head, caressing me as I give him the pleasure he’s wanted all week. I admire his strength. I would have fucked him every day, but he wanted to wait. I can feel his urgency immediately. He presses forward, driving his head toward my throat. I open, letting him have me. I relax, knowing that he’s been waiting.

He’s so aroused that he’s unbelievably wet. My tongue is slick with his soapy taste. Mere minutes in I can tell he’s on the verge. I want him to cum. It turns me on like crazy. I also want him inside my pussy, but I figure that can wait, just as he’s waited. I give him everything I can afford to give: let him plumb my mouth, scrub my tongue, pleasure himself on my lips. I grab his ass. He’s trembling, stiff. So close.

Come, I think. Come, baby.

He moans. Here it is. I get ready, breathing deep. My heart races. Any second I’ll feel a spurt of his warmth on my tongue, dashing against my throat. He moans again. Here is comes… I’m ready.

Suddenly he pulls out. His cock is so fucking hard it looks painful. I moan.

“Come back,” I say, licking his syrup from my lips.

My man looks at me like he’s never going to see me again. He hesistates, cock bouncing with his pulse. With a groan he pulls his pants up and tucks himself away behind his zipper. The front of his jeans are bulging.

“What are you doing?” I say. My pussy aches. I need his load. I feel empty without giving him a proper finish.

He looks almost dizzy with arousal.

“Just think of how great it will be,” he says. “I think I can hold out another day.”

I remind him that we have guests this weekend.

“Monday then,” he says. “I wonder if I can go another week like this?”

So do I.

Luckiest Man Alive


YOU are the luckiest man alive.

Let me rephrase that: You were the luckiest man alive.

You see, now you’re dead, so… Yeah, not so lucky anymore. But, Adam, when you were alive you really had it going for you (in a shallow, superficial kind of way).

During your mortal life, you had perfect luck with women. You were given a gift: you always got the girl. Every damn time. You barely even needed to try. Women got naked for you at the drop of a hat. Surely you understood that you had a power that other men didn’t?

Adam? Are you listening?

Just ignore those red-hot pokers. We put those here to scare newcomers, they’re just for show. I promise we will never stick one of those in your asshole. No, sir, wouldn’t dream of it.

You were good enough to look at, but that’s not the reason you attracted women. It wasn’t your money, or your personality. You were an ordinary amount of funny and a normal amount of interesting. You weren’t especially brave nor selfless. Your abs were fine. Your hair was okay. You smelled meh. You were really just a guy. Hell, you didn’t even have a big cock. You were an ordinary, boob-lovin’, ass watchin’, lady stealin’ kind of guy with no outstanding characteristics.

You’re just our type down here, you know. We specialize in scoundrels, lowlifes and pickup artists. You fall into one of those categories. You know you do.

Adam, do you remember that night when you were fifteen and you pleaded with the universe to get to third base with Becky Schiller (and you did in fact get into her pants that night)? You said, and I quote:

“If anyone is out there listening, please, please, I’ll give you anything to go down her pants.”

Well, I was listening, and I granted your sweet, hopeful wish to finger Becky. You did it and you liked it (she was less impressed, but whatever, this is about you). And now your soul belongs to Moi.

(I’d also like to note that The Big Guy does not answer requests for sexual favors unless the sex is to have a baby, and sometimes not even then. All purely sexual requests come straight down here. We have kind of a monopoly on the market of the please-lemme-get-fucked prayer response. I’m quite proud of it. Oh, and prayers for football teams. Those end up here, too.)

I thought it might be amusing to fuck up the balance on Earth by skewing the sexual attraction curve a mite in your favor. I mean, you really didn’t have much else going for you, did you?

My meddling explains your startling success with women. I hope you enjoyed this gift while you could, because it’s going to be a rough ride for you down here. We’ve got some pretty interesting stuff planned for you, my friend, starting with a blowjob from the Spider Queen — ah, but I’m off subject again.

You know, this power over women didn’t have to corrupt you. The other guys I “blessed” with this “gift” didn’t all end up with us down here. Some of them used the power in limited ways for the benefit of the women they loved. I mean, let’s take the example of Jason Fridley. He had the power and only used it to give his lovely wife (Ellen) orgasms that other women would have died to experience. He’s upstairs now, by the way, for that and other reasons unrelated to sex.

You on the other hand… Well, Adam. You used the power to fuck as many girls as you could, one after another, for your entire life. Starting with Becky and ending with Mari and Sara. Do you know what your partner count is? Of course you do, because the numbers are all that mattered to you. Your number is high, Adam. Really high. Even for rock stars that’s a huge number.

You know, the biggest problem wasn’t the fucking. We afterlife managers don’t really care about fucking, contrary to popular belief on Earth. Pleasure’s a good thing, fuck as much as you want. It’s literally the only interesting thing to do on that shitty planet of yours.

No, it’s not the sex. It’s the attitude.

You never had a meaningful relationship in your life. You used women as something slippery to wrap around your cock, as a slight improvement over your bottle of lotion. I gave you the ability to give a woman orgasms beyond her wildest dreams. You barely had to try and she would be writhing in your arms. Why didn’t you use that power more often? You could at least have given those poor girls something devilishly special to remember you by.

Can’t you see how selfish that was, how it ultimately led you down here?

(You could have also worn a condom now and then. That would have scored you a few notches on the eternal bedpost (to use an idiom you’re familiar with). Did you know that you have 92 illegitimate children? And I won’t even mention the diseases… We’ll be visiting all of them on you over the next few aeons, so you’ll get to experience those first hand.)

You didn’t have to end up here at all. You could have enjoyed your gift with the right women and for the right reasons and you’d be in a better place. But you just had to try to fuck them all, didn’t you?

Well. My little lecture is over. You made your choices. You’re here now and we’re grateful to have you. We all think you’ll be kind of fun to play with.

Before we get to the proper “entertainment”, we’re going to watch your life backwards. We’re only going to hit the highlights — nobody cares to watch you sleeping — and we’re going to start with your actions yesterday, the day you died. I’m sure that you remember it well.

Actually, Adam, maybe you should narrate this story for us. You were there, you probably know it best:

July 3rd: U.S.A, Earth, near Miami, Florida

I grab a big towel, tuck a bottle of lube into my swim trunks and head out onto the beach. The waves crash in and the air smells of the sea. There are a few young people on the sand, kicking a ball around. I walk up to two young women in bikinis. They are luscious. Thin but with just enough curve.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” they reply.

“I’m Adam,” I tell them. The blonde is Sara and the brunette is Mari.

Both of the lovelies crack into a big grin and glance at one another. I’m used to this. They’re impossibly attracted to me.

I’m going to ask them something personal just to prove that I can get a woman to do anything for me.

“Did you masturbate today?” I ask, pointing at pale Sara. A normal man could never get away with that question.

“No,” she says, giggling. I smile. As always, totally receptive.

“Did you?” I point at olive-skinned Mari.

She looks embarrassed and kicks the sand. “I did this morning,” she says shyly. “To get my boyfriend in the mood.”

“You did it for your boyfriend? He watched you?”

“Yeah,” she admits, blushing.

“Then he fucked you?”

“Yeah?” she says, her flush clearly deepening.

Damn. Hot, hot, hot. I like these girls already.

I ask them how old they are. They’re nineteen. Perfect.

“Wanna take a walk?” I say.

We traipse along the wet sand, letting the cool waves wash over our feet. Mari and Sara are happy to tell me anything and everything about themselves. They tell me about when they lost their virginity, about what makes them come, about their secret fantasies. This has always been the best part of my gift: laying bare their souls. By the time I get a girl’s clothes off, I usually know her secrets better than her best friends.

We find a private part of the beach. It doesn’t really matter to me if people see us, just so long as the police don’t arrest me for public lewdness. The clouds in the West are tangerine and it’s getting cooler. I spread the big towel out on the sand.

“What are we doing?” Sara asks, brushing a strand of pale hair out of her face. I smile at her. She’s so pretty.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I say.

I’ve got to decide how to handle these girls. There’s such a smorgasbord of options. You must understand, they will do anything I want them to.

Anything. Gleefully willing. It’s a man’s dream come true.

I weigh the options and the situation. We won’t have much time here on the beach before somebody reports us. I decide a quickie is necessary. I’ll get in, get off, and get on my way…

But first, a little bit of playtime.

“Take your suits off,” I tell them, and they happily strip. “Damn, you two are perfect.”

I gaze at their bodies, flushing them with compliments. I tell them to turn around, bend over, pose for me. They’re lean and fit. Sara’s breasts are perfect: a nice handful and firm. She’s shaved her pussy like in the movies and it’s nice and smooth. She’s quite skinny. Mari is shorter with wide hips and full tits. Her nipples are broad and dark. She’s got a dark strip of hair on her mound and her butt reminds me of ripe fruit, sweet and ready to be plucked.

I tell Sara to suck Mari’s nipple. She gladly bends over and slips the nipple into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue. Mari gasps. Sara moves on to the other nipple once the first one is nice and hard.

While she’s doing this, I caress Sara’s slim ass. So firm. I kneel on the towel and spread her cheeks to get a look at her asshole and the pink folds of her pussy. I run my forefinger over her folds, picking up a little of her moisture, and then I push my finger inside her cunt. Her pussy flesh is hot around my finger and wetness is just blooming inside.

I stroke my finger in and out a few times. Her pussy responds with a flood of natural lube. Sara moans as I massage the roof of her cunt. I spend a few moments playing with her clit until it’s pink and swollen. Sara rocks her hips and sucks Mari’s tits harder.

I kiss Sara’s clit, slurping at it. The angle’s a little weird, but I get my tongue all over it. She moans softly. She tastes like fresh, delicious pussy.

Fuck. My cock is trying to burst out of my trunks. I stand and pull it out.

“Come here,” I say. “Kneel down.”

Both girls hop on their knees, looking up at me with those pretty faces and expectant eyes.

“Who wants it first?” I say, pointing my cock at one and then the other, as if it’s a game of spin the bottle.

Mari goes first. She grabs my shaft with her hand and strokes me a few times. The wind tousles her dark hair across her face and I find that super sexy. Her hand feels amazing, and when she wraps her lips over the tip of my cock I groan with delight. She looks up at me with dark, sultry eyes and slides her tongue over my tip. Tingling, pleasure, and the delicious urge to thrust.

While she’s got my cock buried in her mouth, I idly notice a middle-aged couple on their evening walk on the beach. They spot us and look uncomfortable, and the woman seems to be on the phone. I know I’ve got to hurry. The police will be here soon.

“God, girl,” I moan. I let her tease the tip for a few moments. “Let’s see how deep you can go.”

She brushes her hair out of her face, opens wide, and goes way down. She wiggles her head back and forth to make my cock fit. Her eyes are big and she’s making gross noises. I can feel her throat on my tip. I grab hold of her head at the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” I swear. Mari chokes and pulls back. A trail of slime runs between my dick and her lips.

Mari’s ready to dive in again but I point my cock at Sara. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I say. “Quick. I think that couple just called the police.”

Sara’s got that girl-next-door look. She’s the kind of girl that looks like she wouldn’t know what to do with a cock. Innocent. Man is that a mistaken impression! She leans in, opens up, and takes me deep. All the way deep. One big, unbelievable slide and she’s holding almost all of me in her mouth. She gazes up at me with beautiful blue eyes, her lips wrapped around the shaft of my fat cock and I just about lose it.

I don’t want to stop. I really want to keep swapping my dick from one girl’s mouth to the other, but I’m afraid we’re going to get caught. I love blow jobs but don’t want a night in jail.

“On your backs, right next to each other,” I say, and the girls do it just like that. They’re beautiful, naked angels. “Spread your legs wide open.”

I have to just take a moment to describe this: these two gorgeous girls are on their backs, spread-eagled, just waiting for me. Their nipples are hard and their tits flatten against their chest. They watch me eagerly as I pull off my trunks and slop some lube on my dick. Mari’s cuntlips are full and dark. Sara’s are small and soft pink. I don’t know which one I want to fuck first.

This is my life, I think victoriously. I get sex when and how I want it. I don’t have to be romantic or thoughtful. I can take my time or just fuck, and the girls never think I’m the bad guy.

“Spread wider,” I tell them, and they both open their thighs as wide as they’ll go. I gaze at their glistening folds as if that’s going to help me decide.

Mari, I decide. I get down on her and position my dick at her opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

She nods, nibbling her lower lip.

She’s super wet. I run the tip over her snatch a few times and she wiggles her hips. Her dark eyes moon at me seductively.

This is my favorite part. I press forward. My tip enters her. She parts her lips with a gasp and arches her back. Damn, so hot and wet inside. She envelopes me. I bury my shaft, stroke it in and out just to get the feeling. Holy hell, she’s good. She moans. Her nipples harden.

Once I’ve got Mari warmed up, I pull out and jump over to Sara. I love how naughty it is to put my dick into one chick, whip it out, and shove it right into another one. Plus, as a man, I just find it interesting how pussies feel. I’m like a wine aficionado, except my thing is cunt.

Sara’s so wet I can hardly believe it. I slide my dick over her clit, making her squirm, then line up at her cunthole. She tenses, her thin body getting rigid.

“Relax,” I say, pressing into her.

I groan. Her pussy is raging hot and soaking wet, and she’s so damn tight. It’s hard for me to squeeze in. I use a little more force and my dickhead slips into her pussy. She gasps and winces as I go deeper. I stroke in and out a little, trying to widen her velvety channel.

Meanwhile, Mari is spread wide open and fingering herself. I glance over at her and she’s got two fingers thrust into her well-oiled cunt. She’s chewing on her lip, watching me trying to penetrate her friend. Lust is painted all over her face. It turns me on so much. Her pussy makes juicy noises as she masturbates.

I thrust steadily forward into Sara, totally surprised by her narrow pussy. I’m only halfway and I feel like I’m stuck. She whimpers and gasps and braces her hands against my chest. She’s trembling.

“Careful,” she whispers. “Go slow.”

“You’re so damn tight,” I groan.

“Because I’m a virgin,” she says.



I have a personal rule not to seduce virgins, but I realize I forgot to ask her this time. It’s not really an ethical thing for me, I just usually find that they’re not quite ready for me yet. But I’m half-deep in Sara already so I guess that ship has sailed. I’m not going to
partially deflower her. If we’re doing this, we’re going all the way.

It explains why she looks so damn innocent, though, doesn’t it? I can hardly believe that this cutie-of-all-cuties hasn’t been fucked at nineteen. Clearly she’s been sticking to blow jobs, because she’s damn good at those.

“Okay,” I tell her. “I want you to just relax. It’ll hurt a little, but I’m just going to take you now, got it?”

“Okay,” she says, but I can feel her muscles tightening around my cock. “Careful.”

“No, just trust me. We’re just going to do it. Let go,” I tell her. “Relax.”

She lets out a breath and I feel her loosen. I grab her wrists and pin them over her head. Her breasts flex appealingly.

I thrust. Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth and gives a shuddering little cry. I just go for it, pushing into her, opening her for the first time. She’s so unbelievably tight. It’s like heaven around my cock. Then I settle into the depths of her newly-deflowered cunt. I feel that satisfaction of my dick being the first to reach her core.

Mari moans and fingers herself, thrusting her hips in the air next to us. Her pussy sounds so sloppy.

“Good?” I ask Sara.

Sara nods. “Yeah.”

“Here goes,” I tell her.

I start stroking slowly in and out of her. Her pussy is fucking steamy and wet. It’s such a good feeling having her flesh wrapped around my dick I can barely describe it. I want to come right now, but I don’t. I keep thrusting in and out, loosening her a little, and she starts rocking her hips and moaning. Shortly, I can tell the discomfort has passed and she’s full-on for sex. Her pale cheeks are pink and her breath is ragged. She thrusts her hips up to take more of me.

Mari groans at the sight of me fucking her friend.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Mari says.

Sara just moans. I free her wrists and she runs her hands over my chest and abs, getting the feel of a man on top of her.

“I love it,” Sara says as my cock makes sloppy music in her cunt.

A jogger runs by and stops. He just openly stares at me fucking the blonde. He even comes a little closer. I don’t say anything. It’s a public beach, after all, he can stand and watch whatever he wants.

I see red and blue lights flashing in the palm trees down the beach. Shit. The police. I’m out of time. Suddenly I’ve got a quandary: I’m balls-deep in a sexy ex-virgin and her horny friend is hot and waiting right next to me. I’ve gotta come but I’ve got to do it fast.

I start fucking Sara fast and hard. She cries and moans as I take her. She wraps her ankles around my back. Her pussy gushes.

I grab her tits, squeezing them hard. I pinch her nipples and it makes her crazy. She arches her back and claws at my arms passionately. The sound of her friend makes Mari go nuts. She’s rubbing her cunt with her whole hand, propped up on an elbow so she can better see my erection plumbing her friend. All the sudden, Mari tosses her head back and thrusts her hips toward the sky. She clamps her thighs together over her hand and still rubs herself aggressively. Her throaty cries are so sexy. Sara moans in response.

I’m so close as I fuck Sara. Her tight pussy slides like butter around my cock. I feel a tingling pressure build toward the tip. I start to moan.

“Oh, fuck. I’m going to come,” I say.

Sara makes her own sexy little noises, so turned on by my groans of pleasure. I thrust, thrust, thrust

I pull out. It’s agony. Sara whimpers as her cunt gapes for my cock.

“Mari, open your mouth,” I say.

I straddle her, hanging on to my orgasm long enough to shove my rod down her throat. I let go, moaning as I thrust into Mari’s hot mouth, my cum spilling out into her throat. She gulps and swallows and coughs, making messy, sexy noises. Sara watches, rubbing her clit super fast. As I spend my jizz in Mari’s mouth, Sara lifts her skinny hips and comes. Her eyes are glued on me. She makes little high-pitched cries as her pussy spasms with relief.

As soon as I’m done, I jump up and pull on my suit. My heart is pounding and I just want to wiggle around with these girls for a while, but we’re totally going to get caught.

“Come on, hurry,” I urge them.

The jogger watches us dress. The girls can’t get their tops back on quickly so they pull on their bikini bottoms and we make a run for it. Their breasts jiggle as they run. They giggle. I love it.

We find a concrete stairway down the beach that leads up to a little parking lot. It’s now dusk and the sky is purple. I give Mari and Sara a hug and a kiss on the lips, the first time I’ve kissed either of them.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Thank you,” Sara says with a big smile. She arranges her bikini top. “I don’t suppose you want to go get something to eat?”

“No,” I tell her. “I just wanted to fuck you. I don’t really want to hang out.”

The girls seem fine with that. Some guys might feel guilty but frankly I don’t care. I got what I wanted: two willing and sexy girls to have my way with and never see again.

We say goodbye and they wave. I smile to myself as I walk away.

I’m the luckiest man alive.

Well, that happened, didn’t it? Quite the show, Adam. Bravo.

Two minutes later you were texting a woman who was obsessed with you (yes, Jessica, the one with the nipples that point in two directions) and you weren’t paying attention. You walked right in front of a taco truck and were flattened. It’s kind of funny, really. Your last few minutes of life were a perfect reflection of the previous thirty-two: selfish, hedonistic and not paying attention to the road ahead.

Are you proud of yourself, Adam? I’ve got to admit I’m a bit proud of you. I mean, you were a huge disappointment in every ethical sense of the word, but you were a first-class lecher. I’m not sure I could have done better myself, and that’s saying something. I’ve been practicing for eternity, but you’re a natural!

Let’s go back over the last seventeen years of your memories, at least. We can stop after we review the Becky Schiller incident. It should only take us five and a half years to review that much (if we skip the sleeping, eating, pooping and all the other boring shit humans do with most of their lives). After that, I’ll let you decide if you’d rather have your nipples sliced off in an endless loop or have your erect dick used as a pin cushion. Literally as a pincushion: some of our uniforms have holes in them that need mending, so we could use some help holding the pins.

Oh, and I forgot the Spider Queen blowjob. Let me assure you that it’s nothing like any blowjob you ever got on Earth. She knows what she’s doing with her mandibles, but I’ve heard that she’s a bit toothy.

Adam. Oh, Adam. Crying like a baby’s not going to help you. The time for regrets was while you were alive. Shall we watch your memory of the next poor girl you seduced? What’s her name? Oh, here it is: Amanda. You fucked her in the bathroom at the mall food court and then stole her shorts as a joke.

Yes, that will be fun. Let’s get some popcorn and roll the tape.

Girl On Top

It’s hard to be a woman in this business. I have to prove myself every day in the agency. It doesn’t help that I’m short. Petite. I fucking hate that word. I can take down a man three times my weight and gut him in one move. Stare at my breasts and your testicles will be dangling from my rear-view mirror.

I’ve been hunting Ivan for months. He’s a master thief, a suspected spy and a known murderer. He’s burly and bald, with a pale scar over his left eye. I’ve got his head shot ingrained in my memory and I could pick him out of a crowded room instantly. I probably know his face better than my own father’s.

If he didn’t look so mean he would be really handsome. That’s a purely clinical assessment, of course. I’m a professional agent. I don’t have feelings.

I’m giddy as I race up the stairs in the ratty old hotel because I’ve finally caught up to him. I’m in Bulgaria, in a bad part of Sofia, and there’s no backup for me here for at least an hour or two. I consider laying low until I can get some help, but I decide he’ll find a chance to slip away. This chase will just start over again. I decide I must confront him.

I clutch my pistol tightly as I kick in the door. The door jam splinters. My heart pounds, but the room is empty except for Ivan, who’s on the bed. I aim my gun right at his forehead.

I crack a grin at my luck. He’s naked and tied to the bed frame. He looks at me with exasperation.

“You were expecting someone else?” I say.

He’s gagged with a pair of panties in his mouth. I can deduce what happened here: Ivan gave himself permission for some kinky sex play and the girl probably robbed him and fled as soon as he was tied up.

“I’m surprised at you, Ivan. I would’ve thought that your girls would be the ones who get tied up.”

He glares at me. I have to admit, his masculine body is really appealing. He’s strong and lean. He has an animal allure. I let my gaze trail over his body, admiring his fine abs and chest. My eyes linger between his legs. His cock rests on the light fuzz beneath his navel. It has a nice shape. I can’t help but feel a little flush of heat at the sight of him. I’m especially affected because he’s tied up.

I set my gun on the seedy mattress and close the door, blocking it with a chair so it won’t swing open. I decide to have a little fun with him before I handcuff him and drag his ass to prison. He looks at me with wild eyes as I straddle his legs. He clearly thinks I’m going to hurt him, and I don’t do anything to lessen that impression. I want him to be afraid.

“You’ve caused me so much trouble, Ivan,” I say. I rake my fingernails over his skin from his nipples to his abdomen. “I could cause you a lot of trouble now.”

I grab his cock in my palm, feel it stiffening between my fingers.

“You’ve got some very sensitive parts exposed here,” I say. “I can put you in a world of hurt if I want to.”

I can see the fear in his eyes. His cock is hard as a rock, now. The tip glistens with a touch of dew. I know that he hates me as much as I loathe him, and that it must kill him to show so much desire in front of me. I give his cock a few good strokes, see the pleasure flash across his face. Ivan does a good job disguising it, but I can still tell that he loves my touch. Lust rolls between my legs like a warm mist rising.

“Nice work,” I say, indicating his erection. “You can still manage to get it up.”

Honestly, he’s got a nice cock for a crook. Nice and thick, about the right length, a fat head. His bush is trimmed. I don’t care that he’s a criminal, I can admire a man’s junk no matter who he is.

I squeeze him, really hard, hard enough that I know it must be uncomfortable. He doesn’t flinch. He just glares at me.

I’m getting wet and I realize I’m creating a problem for myself. I want this to go further than it should. It’s already gone further than it should. I enjoy having the velvety skin of my enemy in my palm and I don’t want to let him go.

“You just hate that my hand feels good, don’t you?” I say. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you, Ivan.”

I cup his testicles in my hand, squeezing them just a little. They’re very warm. I get a thrill knowing how much control I have and how scared he must be. I literally have him by the balls.

I know I’m taking this too far, but I can’t help myself. I strip off my top, kick off my shoes and slip out of my (standard issue) cargo pants. I’m not wearing fancy underwear, just comfy cotton. Ivan’s eyes never leave my body.

“You like this?” I wave a hand over my body, shivering a little. I’ve got goose bumps.

He narrows his eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” I say as I climb atop him.

His eyes widen as I straddle his hips and rub my cotton-covered crotch over his cock. I slowly ease my hips forward and back, letting the friction give me pleasure. I can see the heat in his eyes, and I can feel it in his body, too. He sucks his stomach in as I squeeze his cock between my pussy and his abdomen.

I’m over the line now. Way over the line. So far I can’t even see the line. The department might forgive a little impropriety as long as the job gets done, but this is beyond the pale. The problem is: I can’t stop myself. It’s too much to have my archenemy tied to a bed. I must take advantage of it.

I reach around and unclasp my bra. The cool air stiffens my nipples. Ivan’s eyes widen. I notice how blue his pupils are.

“What, you like my body?” I say, taunting him. “You think I have nice tits? Admit it, Ivan. You’re attracted to me. You’re just aching for me to fuck you before I drag your ass to jail.”

He says nothing because of the pair of panties stuffed in his mouth, but I can see the raw desire in his eyes. My pussy moistens my panties. I press myself harder against his erection, gasping at the rub of fabric against flesh. I’m not satisfied. I need more, more…

I peel off my panties and straddle his face instead. I look down my naked body to see him peering up at me, my pussy covering his mouth. It feels risky having my bare pussy so close to his teeth, but I guess he can’t bite me with his mouth full of another woman’s briefs. I rub my soaking folds all over his face, grinding against him, using his chin and nose to press on my clit. He’s scruffy. A little rough on my lady bits. I like it. I try to smother him under my pussy, sitting on his face, making him gasp for breath when I move my hips. A crazy thrill of power surges through me as I look down at him buried under my snatch. I rock my hips, feeling the pleasure roll through me. He looks desperate, breathing in through his nose when I let him.

I smile at him.

“You’re my bitch, Ivan,” I tell him as I smush my pussy all over his criminal face.

I tremble and ache. I could easily come like this, grinding my clit on his skull, but I’m not satisfied. I straddle his hips again and take his fat cock in my hand. It’s hot and hard as sin, the tip dripping wet with his desire. I can’t handle any more teasing. I need to ride him.

I slip his dick between my legs and position it at the mouth of my pussy. I gasp at the delicious feeling of his cockhead pressing at my opening. I lower my hips with agonizing slowness. He stares at me, a look of despair on his face. He moans into the gag. He trembles. His cock opens me torturously as I bury him to the hilt inside of me.

I’m stuffed full of his thickness, achingly full. His tip presses against my womb. I groan.

“Great work with this boner you’ve got going, Ivan,” I say.

I begin to move my hips so slightly. I don’t want him to come and spoil my fun, but I want to feel the fullness of his erection, the electric bump and slide of him in my pussy. I touch my clitoris, rubbing my nob fiercely. I’m lost. My nipples peak and I pinch them with my free hand. I gasp and moan at the upward thrust of him cleaving home. I’m gushing wet, squeezing his cock with my flesh, barely moving my hips while my fingers squish and press and rub my clit. I quiver as my body tenses.

“I know you want me to get you off,” I gasp. “I’m here to take, not to give.”

Ivan’s expression is tortured. I know he wants me to ride him, give him the full feeling of my pussy sliding up and down his rod. I won’t do it.

The pressure is intense. I tingle. Heat floods through me. I move my hand faster, working my bud. My body starts to quake. I let out an agonized moan.

I’m stretched wide, plugged full. I let myself go, jerking my hips as I cascade over the edge into orgasm. My pussy grabs at his cock, spasming, waves of pleasure rolling through me. I collapse onto his chest, bracing myself against his strong body as my pussy squeezes every ounce of pleasure from him.

I’m dizzy. I regain my sanity and slide off of him. His cock is huge and the tip is angry purple. It’s shiny with my juices. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so fucking hard. His balls are clenched up against his body.

He must be so painfully horny.

The power goes to my head. My instincts as a lover are to let him finish, to do something about that hard-on resting on his stomach. It looks agonizing. But that’s not my mission. I fucked him. I got mine. He can go to hell.

“I hope you like blue balls,” I tell him as I dress and ready the handcuffs.

As they say, to the victors go the spoils.

Erotica Post Roundup Feb. 20, 2017

I actually posted some stories last week! In case you missed them, here’s a quick recap:

  • Monkey Mind (Meditation, masturbation, and an elusive orgasm)
  • Show Me (A naughty game of show-the-butthole in a grocery store)
  • College Try (Watching porn is a prelude to a threesome)
  • Consolation Prize (Cheering up a friend by letting him watch her have sex)

I also revived a long-abandoned story called On the Beach, which started as a request from my writing buddy Besos de Cuero and subsequently took on a life of its own. You can start from the beginning if you’re interested:

Or pick up with the latest episodes:

Chapters eleven and twelve are coming up soon, as well as some other short stories that I dragged out of the vault.

I also wrote a non-erotic post about the Metropolitan Museum as a source for public domain artwork — great for bloggers!

Finally, you can find a nice list of the erotic stories that I’ve posted on this blog, if you want more (ahem) reading material. Thanks for spending time with my writing (as well as all of the great feedback) and keep those kitten purring!