The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  I couldn’t stand. It was as though I was handcuffed and bound. The world was not going to let this adrenaline moment slip away from me . . .

  My cock was pulsing beneath the skin, somehow carefully saving its eruption for the right minute. If nothing else, I was certain, I wanted to share my gratitude to – the couple, the world, the gods, whomever would watch – in the form of the enormous volcano that was boiling inside me.

  In the frenzy that ensued, I remember little apart from a couple of details. She put her hands up against the glass – where once they were holding onto the frame of the window – as if she were afraid of falling through. Then, when they gained a nice tempo and his balls were slapping against her clit and the ecstasy of the moment took over, she was ready, and placed both palms against the glass; ready and bowled over by the pleasure of it all to fall completely through this glassy-eyed moment.

  Then, several minutes later, just when an idea was mushrooming into my head – that I wanted more; that I wanted to go higher; that I wanted to fly across the courtyard and somehow magically join them – they switched positions. He violently turned her away from the window and, pulling her hands behind her and lacing them into one grip, in one of his hands, he took a free hand and wailed on her ass. From my apartment I could hear the skin smacking, kissing, breaking and cracking like a whip.

  And he drilled her with his cock. She wailed and whimpered sweetly into the slightly ajar window. As the minutes went by, her body slowly folded over. Her legs, after a near eternity of this pounding, finally were giving out.

  Then his muscles flexed and he pumped one long, hard, last time into her – emptying himself completely into her hotness. In that strong pause, he must have been shaking – but I couldn’t see it from where I was. I heard no sounds from him.

  He posted his orgasm-heavy weight on her; and she leaned into the couch next to them.

  Then he pulled out of her and the two of them turned around and stood facing the windows. As if they were fixing themselves back up after the tremendous fucking. But no, they were only gathering themselves, to look back out at me.

  This, I knew, was really happening. This, I knew, was my moment.

  I began pumping violently at my cock. But it didn’t take much. And with my abdominal muscles and every curve of my legs and ass tensed up; my feet off the floor in some rigor mortis severity, my cock pulsed and then catapulted a fiery jet of come all over my stomach – hitting me even in the neck.

  It was as though I had been punched in the stomach. My lungs were paralysed for a long second. From the hips I began quivering, alternately bucking my hips into the couch and squiggling to the side.

  Slowly, I came to. The lights became less blinding. And then when my cock ceased pulsing in my now-drenched hand, I looked up to the windows. The couple was gone.

  Walking away from this moment, I was forced to redefine my sexuality. For ever were the answers going to be different to my questions of: What is erotic? What turns me on? How high is really high? How high do I want to go? How high is safe?

  That was the first time I had seen another couple have sex in front of me. It was the first time anybody had seen me like that, with my cock out, naked and exposed so plainly. Before that night, I had never had an orgasm in front of a stranger.

  This was a definite fulcrum point in my evolution as a sexual being. From this point onwards, I was for ever changed . . . Fire for ever burned a different hue . . .

  To this day I strive to recreate the adrenaline and serotonin surge that I felt on that night.

  Still, to this day, I have yet to achieve that rush.

  LOUNGE SWEET

  Chris, South Australia

  I loved working as the front man for the family upholstery business. I spent two-thirds of every day driving around, visiting new locations and meeting new people. Getting your lounge suite re-covered isn’t particularly cheap so most of my clients were over fifty and already financially secure. They were getting the house remodelled or the internal furnishings redone, probably for the last time. But sometimes life has a way of serving up a surprise that makes my job exceptional.

  Graham Wishburn had come into the shop two days ago for discussions on having an old Chesterfield three-seater refurbished and re-covered. He’d picked out a few sample books of expensive fabrics for me to bring to his home the following day and requested I be there early. He’d indicated that I was to pick up the massive piece of furniture while I was there. Nothing better than a guaranteed sale. Graham looked to be in his thirties so I figured he’d be able to help me load it.

  So bright and early yesterday morning, the sun found me in my trusty pickup truck, smiling happily at starting the day with an excellent bonus. I whistled mindlessly along with the radio until I pulled into the drive of the client’s home. There were three geese blocking my way, honking and shitting everywhere. The grass looked like it hadn’t been cut in a month and the paint was peeling from the house exterior.

  His neighbours’ homes were well-kept, medium-priced types but Graham Wishburn’s house could best be described as ramshackle. Visions of my nice bonus flew out of the window.

  Carefully stepping around the goose shit and doing my best to fend off the animals with my pattern books and briefcase, I made my way to the front door. I balanced my case under my arm and knocked loudly on the dilapidated front door.

  I knocked three more times, still no response. A fucking wild goose chase, literally. One of the geese honked in agreement with my thought. I struggled to balance my pattern books as I shifted my briefcase back under my arm to try one final time. As I leaned forwards to knock, intending to do so with some force, the door suddenly opened.

  I stumbled forwards, tripping on the raised doorstep. I managed to twist sideways as I went down, taking the brunt of the impact on my shoulder. Pattern books and briefcase scattered in all directions. I rolled to my back to look up into a startled set of wide grey eyes, peeking through a long fringe of unkempt blond hair.

  She would have been in her early twenties, lean, with very modest breasts. From my angle and the fact that she wore only a white T-shirt, I could also tell the drapes matched the rug. She seemed unconcerned that I took a good long look at her uncovered pussy.

  A voice from down the corridor announced the presence of another woman. “Kelly, what the fuck happened?”

  The blonde above me glanced over her shoulder. “I guess this is the guy Graham said would be here to pick up the sofa.”

  Still on my back I raised my hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Chris from Premier.”

  The smallest hint of a smile played across her light-pink lips as she clasped my hand. “Kelly, are you all right?”

  I clambered back to my feet and gathered my books and case. Once I had everything back under control, I stood expectantly before her. She looked at me quizzically.

  I suggested we should probably go have a look at the sofa. She nodded in agreement and led the way down the corridor. As we passed the doorway where her friend had appeared, I instinctively glanced in the opening.

  Stretching before a full-length mirror was a naked brunette. Forgetting where I was, I stopped in my tracks to admire her. From my vantage point I saw her reflection, the firm pert titties, the flat stomach and shaved bush. She was topped off by a brunette bob cut that framed a pleasant face. Her firm round buttocks and the play of muscles along her unblemished back added to the intensely erotic picture before me.

  She opened her eyes and caught my gaze in the mirror, a similar half-smile playing across her lips that had been in evidence on Kelly’s face only moments before. She made no move to cover herself. “Hi, I’m Kate.”

  I stammered out my name and tore my eyes away. Kelly had continued into the room at the end of the hall where the sofa lived. On changing my look from Kate to Kelly, I caught sight of the blonde bending over to retrieve a glass of water from the floor, next to the sofa. Her blond quim peeked out at me and caused me to again stop in mid-stride.
My erection was now in full control of my faculties, leading me down the hallway. Soft padding feet from behind caused me to glance back. Still without a stitch, Kate followed in my wake. At this point in time, I couldn’t give a fuck about a bonus, I was getting bonus enough.

  The women stood side by side as I tried to appraise the couch, whispering in each other’s ear. My cock was doing its best to break free of its confines and to let me know I should be doing other things rather than work. Finally I stopped and sat in the middle of the sofa. “Excuse me, ladies, but where is Graham?”

  “He’s only our landlord,” said Kelly.

  “He doesn’t actually live with us,” added Kate.

  “So who was going to help me lift this onto the truck?”

  Both women shrugged. Kelly said, “We were told to just choose a fabric and you’d sort out the rest, but you seem distracted.” Both women had an eyebrow raised.

  I’d had enough. I stood and undid my belt, button and zipper in record time, allowing my trousers and underwear to puddle around my ankles. Free at last, my cock bobbed in time to my rising pulse as pre-come threatened to drip from my tip.

  Kelly peeled off her T-shirt as Kate knelt before me, ton-guing up the drop of lubrication before swallowing me. She cupped my balls gently in her hand as she lavishly worked her tongue around my shaft. Kelly and I duelled with our tongues as I cupped her small breast and tweaked her pebble-hard nipple.

  Kelly bent to join Kate at my feet. The immense pleasure of seeing two women at your feet, taking turns to engulf your knob while the other sucks on your balls is intense. When Kate started playing with Kelly’s cunt, I erupted into Kelly’s mouth, pumping my juices down her throat as she struggled to keep up.

  Kate lay back on the huge Chesterfield and draped a leg over the backrest, exposing her shaved pussy to us both. Before I could react, Kelly positioned herself at Kate’s hole and began to tongue her in earnest. With her butt raised in the air and her pussy again peeking at me, I couldn’t help myself. I moved in behind the blonde and began tonguing her slit.

  I sank to my knees on the bare floorboards for a better angle, allowing me to dip my tongue between her folds and coax her button out of hiding. I reached up and placed a thumb over her anus and began to massage there as I continued to tease her clit.

  The moans coming from Kate suggested that Kelly was doing well in her own ministrations. I leaned in and latched on to Kelly’s clit with my lips, sucking firmly to elicit a groan from her. A frustrated cry from Kate suggested that my pleasing Kelly was distracting her from finishing off the brunette.

  I took it as a challenge. I inserted a finger into Kelly’s cunt and coated it with her juices before allowing it to replace my thumb over her anus. Little by little I increased the pressure of my sucking and my finger. Suddenly Kelly’s asshole relaxed and my finger slipped inside, gaining another response from both women.

  My dick had now recovered and was straining to gain my attention; he wanted back in the game.

  Keeping my finger in place I stood and ran my engorged head over Kelly’s blond lips. She pushed her hips back at me, encouraging me to enter her. I pulled back.

  Kelly forgot about Kate and glanced back at me. In response to her unanswered question I asked, “Rubbers?”

  In annoyance she pointed at the coffee table where a large bowl held an assortment of prophylactics. Obviously this wasn’t a completely new experience for these ladies. I randomly grabbed a foil packet and tore it open. Kelly had gone back to pleasuring Kate and without my distractions had managed to push her along. I slowly rolled on the ribbed strawberry-coloured sheath. I moved back into position behind Kelly but waited until Kate was truly into the throes of her orgasm before plunging into Kelly’s pussy.

  Her own lubrication mixed with that of the rubber, allowing me to slide all the way home in a single thrust. Her head reared back and a guttural groan escaped her lips. With measured, long strokes, I drilled her canal, slowly building up my pace.

  From beneath us, Kate recovered enough to swing around so she could suck on Kelly’s nipples and tease her clit with her fingers. With both of us working on her, Kelly’s climax built quickly. Feeling her inner muscles beginning to contract, I shortened my strokes, my cock becoming a blur as I pounded into her, my finger still massaging her anus.

  Her inner muscles clamped around my shaft. I endured a moment of intense pain as she squeezed and then she came. A torrent of juices washed against my pubic bone and ran down our thighs to soak into the upholstery. On feeling her obvious release I followed her lead and began to pump my load into the latex.

  We found a number of different ways to fit all three of us into a daisy chain that morning but eventually I was too exhausted to get my dick to cooperate any more.

  It struck me then that I still hadn’t measured up the sofa, the women hadn’t picked a fabric and there was still the problem of getting the thing onto the truck. My legs were shaky as it was. Lifting a huge antique sofa wasn’t going to be easy.

  Kate and Kelly gave me the solution. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow with someone from work?” suggested Kelly.

  “With two big strong men, it shouldn’t be a problem getting it up . . . onto the truck,” added Kate.

  I didn’t miss the innuendo or the sudden renewed interest these two were showing. I left the pattern books with them overnight so they could have a good look through them.

  My biggest problem now is which of the lads from work should I take with me?

  FRIDAY NIGHT SPICE

  Jane, Powell River

  When my partner and I bought a computer and discovered the Net, I decided it was time we expanded our horizons. We’d always had a pretty lively sex life but there was definitely something lacking somewhere. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. What was that elusive X factor? It dawned on me one evening when I was surfing the internet and came across a site about erotic corporal punishment.

  I wanted to be spanked.

  Suddenly, various pieces of a scattered puzzle fitted together with a satisfying click. My partner had always been fond of giving my cheeks an affectionate swat in the passing – could he rise to a full assault upon my rear? I decided to find out.

  Peter and I are fond of watching a blue movie after our Friday night curry. The film inevitably leads to an extended session on the couch in our living room. For Spanking Night, I picked a new DVD from the adult video shop Comeuppance – Tales of Wicked Schoolgirls. The cover showed a nubile eighteen-year-old bending over, holding her ankles as a stern schoolmaster brandished a cane above her tight little behind. The “schoolgirl” wore a micro-mini kilt and a skimpy clingy top. I completed my shopping with a trip to Oxfam, where I found a school pinafore, perfect for flipping up to expose a naughty bottom.

  When Peter arrived home that evening, he found me dressed in my new uniform. I had added sheer seamed stockings and shiny black stilettos with four-inch heels. The pinafore was very short and tight. I’m a big girl and my tits were crammed into the bodice, threatening to pop out any moment. Peter was speechless. He put down his briefcase and stared at me. Then something interesting happened.

  “Bend over, Jane.”

  It was my turn to stare. I had set the evening up so carefully. Dinner first, then wine and Comeuppance. It looked as if Peter had his own ideas. We both breathed hard as I bent over the couch. My bottom felt vulnerable, clad in the flimsiest of black see-through panties. Suddenly, my pussy was extremely wet. I could sense Peter standing just behind me and a delicious blend of nerves and anticipation surged through me.

  “You do have a lovely bum, Jane. And a very sexy one too.”

  I groaned and thrust my hips towards Peter like a horny slut. I wanted two things – a sound spanking and a hard fuck, preferably doggy-style. Cool fingers caressed the satiny flesh at the tops of my thighs. Moisture oozed from my swollen pussy and melted into the see-through panties. I imagined how my bottom would look to Peter. Wide and curvy, like a big lusciou
s peach. I already wanted to come. Peter traced the soft lines of my hips with his fingertips and I shivered.

  “I know what you need. A damn good spanking.”

  I swear, at that moment, I would’ve begged for it. Peter raised his hand and smacked my wriggling bum. A delicious warm tingle spread through my cheeks. My clit throbbed.

  “Take your panties down, Jane.”

  Slowly, I did as I was instructed, savouring the wickedness. My pussy was hot and wet, my clit ready to explode with pleasure. Again and again his firm hand slapped against my tender exposed bum like a series of tiny bee stings and I ground my hips, crying out for Peter to fuck me. Quickly, he unzipped himself and I heard the familiar rustle of the condom wrapper. Groaning, he thrust his solid cock deep inside my velvety, melting cunt. My boobs popped out of the tiny pinafore as we fucked, doggy-style, and he squeezed their bouncing juiciness as we pounded to a noisy climax.

  I think the entire street must’ve heard us come that night. And, yes, we did get round to watching that DVD. Eventually . . .

  SEDUCING MY DAUGHTER’S GIRLFRIEND

  Isabelle, Chicago

  When sweet little Tracy came to my front door asking if my daughter was home, I just about wet my panties right then and there. You see, the cute-as-a-button eighteen-year-old was scantily attired in a midriff-baring, pink halter top and a pair of tight, white shorty-shorts, her strawberry-blond hair braided into two impish ponytails.

  “Uh, no, Tracy, I’m sorry,” I said, running my eyes all over the burgeoning babe’s body, “but Brianne won’t be back until eight or so.”

  She turned to leave, and I impulsively shot out my hand and grabbed on to her bare arm. Her smooth, tanned skin felt so very good in my hand. In the split second that it took my pussy to dampen at the sight of the pretty teenager, I’d decided to try to put the moves on her.