The Mammoth Book of Urban Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  “I’m not at the lake,” he interrupted. “I’m at Milo’s. Come down and have a drink.”

  “I’m on deadline—”

  “Eric’s here,” he wheedled. Double bastard! He knew I had a crush on Eric. If the poor man only knew the sexy fantasies he’d been a part of while Van and I had sex. I rolled my eyes. Van knew I wouldn’t be able to resist that temptation.

  And that’s how I ended up at Milo’s, drinking mojitos on a Saturday afternoon, sandwiched between the hot guy I sometimes fucked and the hot guy I dreamed of fucking.

  It started out innocently enough (don’t these things always?) with Van teasing me about my long-unrequited crush on Eric.

  “Unrequited?” Eric protested. “I’ve been crushing on Mia since the day you first introduced us, Van. I just didn’t want to steal her out from under you.” He smirked and winked at me.

  Van widened his eyes and spread his hands. “What, are you saying I wouldn’t share with my best friend?”

  Eric’s cheeky-ass smirk drooped a bit. “I, uh, never thought about it,” he said. “I figured you had, you know, squatter’s rights . . .”

  “Squatter’s rights?!” My voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. “I’m right here, you two, stop talking about me like I’m a piece of property.” I took a long drink of my mojito and waved at the waiter for another round. I eyed the two men speculatively. Although Van and I had joked about my crush on his friend, this was the first time I’d heard that he’d be willing to “share”. Not that we had the kind of relationship that conferred rights on either of us, but Eric was his best friend, after all. Leaning back in my chair, I decided to call both men on their bluff – let them put their money where their mouths were.

  Or something else there.

  “So, Van, you’d be willing to ‘share’ me with Eric, huh? And you, Eric, you’ve been hands-off all this time out of loyalty to Van’s ‘rights’ to me? Is that what I’m hearing?”

  Both men looked mildly embarrassed.

  Van shrugged. “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s not like that—”

  I cut them both off. “Prove it.” I leaned back in my chair, my arms folded over my chest.

  Both men opened their mouths, but neither one seemed able to form words. Eric glanced at Van, who was staring at me.

  “Put your money where your mouths are, boys,” I continued.

  They both started talking at once.

  “You want—”

  “You mean—”

  I interrupted them again. “That’s exactly what I mean. But we do it my way.”

  There was an abrupt silence as both men stared at me quizzically. “Your way?” Eric finally asked. I swear his voice was almost as squeaky as mine had been.

  It was my turn to smirk. “Yes. We do it together. So there’s no misunderstandings later.”

  I watched the flush creep into Eric’s pale cheeks. A Nordic blond, it was hard for him to hide what he was feeling. He looked over at Van again, who was beginning to grin in that lascivious, slightly leering way that I loved.

  “What are you suggesting, Mia?” he asked. I knew he knew what I was suggesting, because we’d talked about it often enough when we were in bed. He just wanted to hear me say it.

  I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table. Looked first at one man and then the other.

  “I’m suggesting exactly what you think I am. A threesome. You, me, Eric.” I let that sink in for a moment, then let the other shoe drop. “Now.”

  So maybe I had had one mojito too many. I wasn’t usually so forward. But I wasn’t going to back down now.

  Van leaned over and put his face close to mine. I could see the couple at the next table watching us. I think they may have overheard my challenge. “You sure you’re up for that, Mia?” Van asked softly. It may have sounded like he was being solicitous, but I knew he was calling my bluff – and challenging me back. I knew him well enough by now to know that.

  I leaned into him, brought my lips close to his, and whispered against them, “You sure you’re ‘up’ for it?” Stressing the word just a bit as I let my hand drop casually to the front of his khakis, stroking what I found there before I leaned away again.

  He grinned widely. “Oh, you know I am.” He looked over at Eric, who had been watching, unable to look away, this whole time. I slipped my foot out of my shoe and trailed one toe up the length of his jeans, from his calf to the bulge between his legs, pleased to find him as hard as Van had been. I looked over at Van. “I think Eric’s in,” I said.

  Fifteen minutes later I was in possession of a room key. Milo’s was located in the lobby of one of the numerous hotels downtown and I had insisted we just get a room there rather than drive to Van’s place. Although it would have been a short drive, I liked the added punch of the anonymity of a hotel room. Plus there was an awesome view down to the nearly empty city streets . . . and, truth to tell, I didn’t want to give any of us time to back out.

  I waved the room key at them as I approached the table, a sassy grin on my face. They both jumped up so quickly the table rocked, then looked at each other and laughed selfconsciously.

  So maybe backing out hadn’t been a real concern.

  We all stood awkwardly as we waited for the elevator, as though afraid to get too close. The alcohol that had fueled my impulsive challenge wasn’t doing me much good now, and it looked like Eric was having second thoughts as his eyes darted between Van and me. Just as I was about to tell them both that I was just kidding with the whole thing, the elevator door opened. Van slid an arm around my waist and pulled me into it. With only the slightest hesitation, Eric followed. As the elevator door slid shut, Van put his mouth to my ear, but spoke loud enough that I knew Eric could hear. “You really are a conniving little slut, aren’t you? I bet you’ve been planning this for ages.”

  A slow smile spread across my face. He knew I had been fantasizing about it for a long time, because he’d made me tell him all about those fantasies. But planning it? Not consciously . . . Still, I decided to play along.

  “I’ve been waiting for my chance,” I agreed, flashing a look at Eric. “I’ve been dreaming about what Eric’s hands would feel like on my body, what his mouth tastes like, how his cock would feel in my hand.”

  I saw Eric swallow hard. Van glanced at his friend. With a gentle nudge in Eric’s direction, he pushed me towards him. “Why don’t you find out?”

  Feeling suddenly shy, I stepped forward and raised my face. Eric stood only a little taller than me, and I was able to look into his eyes as our faces drew near. His breath was warm on my lips as his mouth brushed mine softly, tentatively.

  “Yes,” I breathed against his mouth, as though he had asked a question. With a groan he pulled me to him and kissed me, hard and deep, his tongue probing my mouth and tangling with mine. His mouth tasted sharp and clean and new, like the gin martinis he drank. I felt the hard length of him against my body and his arms around me, pulling me closer as though he wanted to fuse my body to his. His hand slid down my side and cupped my ass through the thin cotton of the dress I’d worn. Suddenly I felt Van behind me, pressing me into Eric. Eric’s back thumped heavily against the mirrored wall of the elevator and I looked up and into Van’s brown eyes reflected in the mirror. I heard his breathing, sharp and quick in my ear, felt the insistent jab of his cock against my rear.

  The elevator dinged and we all glanced up to see we’d made it all the way to our floor without being interrupted. Reluctantly I pushed away from Eric and disentangled myself from both men as the elevator door slid open.

  “Whew! We should get a room,” I quipped, and, straightening my dress, I started out into the empty hallway, waving the room key like a banner.

  Inside the room it appeared our earlier awkwardness was gone: as soon as the hotel-room door shut, Van pulled me to him, falling back against the wall as Eric took up the position behind me this time. If Eric had tasted wild and new, Van tasted like home: warm and smok
y, bourbon and cigarettes. I inhaled his familiar scent and taste. I’d talked a big game, sure, but now that we were here I felt just the tiniest bit of apprehension. Van must have felt my sudden hesitation, because he put me away from him slightly and lowered his head to look in my eyes. Eric stepped back too.

  “This is for you, baby,” he said. “If you are having second thoughts, let us know. It’s OK. Honest.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Eric, who smiled sweetly and stroked my cheek. “Whatever you want, Mia,” he said.

  I ran my eyes down the length of his lanky frame, noting the broad shoulders that I had always lusted after and the long, somehow delicate fingers that I’d always dreamed of feeling on my breasts, the light, curly hair just visible on his chest and so different from Van’s dark hair and smooth chest. I also noticed the distinct, sizable bulge in the front of his jeans and felt an answering tug in my abdomen and heat between my legs. God, I’d wanted him as long as I had known him!

  Then I looked back at Van, my wonderful on-again/off-again lover, with his russet-brown hair and deep brown eyes, his callused, workman’s hands that I loved the feel of and his long, tall body.

  Catching each of them by a hand I whirled and pulled them toward the bed. “You’re not getting out of it that easy,” I said.

  I led Van to the armchair next to the bed and indicated he should sit. Eric I pulled to the center of the room and then slowly, deliberately, began to take off his clothes. I unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest all the way down to his belly, nuzzling the soft line of hair that continued down under the waist of his jeans as I did so, then nipped and kissed him teasingly around his beltline as I undid his belt. When he started to shrug out of his shirt I straightened up and shook my head, pulling his hand away, then proceeded to pull it off myself, walking around him and planting kisses on every part of his body the shirt revealed: forearms, triceps, shoulders, shoulder blades, the back of his neck, down to his waist. He was breathing hard by the time I came back around to his front, and a glance at Van revealed that he, too, was getting aroused by my show.

  When Eric’s shirt was off and his belt undone, I pushed him back on the bed. “Van’s turn,” I said.

  I knelt in front of Van’s chair and began to undo his belt, then opened his slacks and pulled his rigid cock out from his underwear. I heard the sharp intake of Eric’s breath behind me as I leaned over Van and took him into my mouth. I made sure to do it so that Eric could see everything I was doing, and looked over into Eric’s eyes as I took Van’s cock all the way down my throat and then slid it out again. I saw his hand go to the bulge in the front of his jeans and I grinned around Van’s cock.

  Van suddenly stood up, scooping me into his arms as he did, and dropped me onto the bed. I laughed. Eric laughed. Van grinned down at me, his arms on either side of my head.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Then, between the two of them, they stripped me of my dress, my panties and my bra. Have you ever felt two mouths on you at once? Two mouths and four hands, two pairs of legs lying across you, two torsos heavy on you, two hard male chests against your breasts? No? Then you’re missing out.

  My nipples pebbled in the hotel’s uber air-conditioning. Van’s and Eric’s mouths, warm and wet, each covered one. I moaned as Van sucked hard, drawing the nipple and half of my small, firm breast into his mouth; gasped as Eric nipped lightly at the other. Eric’s jeans felt rough against my skin, Van’s khakis were smoother – and I wanted them both off.

  I pushed up and tore at Eric’s jeans first. Laughing again, he leaned back so I would have access and allowed me to tug and push first them and then his underwear down over his hips. I was lying half over him so that his cock sprang up in front of my mouth as I got his jeans off. It was the first time I had seen it, and I stared at it a moment, wondering at the differences between him and Van. His was shorter but thicker than Van’s, the head bulbous and purple, with springy blond hair sprouting at its root.

  I looked up at him. “May I?”

  He responded with a groan and a nod of his head. I took him into my mouth with infinite care, tasting him, licking him and lapping at him until he brought a hand to the back of my head.

  “Please,” he said on a gasp.

  I obliged and slid my mouth down over his thick head entirely, and then, hearing his moan of pleasure, took him deeper, enjoying the feel of him filling my mouth entirely.

  Behind me I felt Van shifting on the bed, and felt him shrugging out of his shirt and slacks. A moment later he was behind me, his body curved around mine, his hands encircling me to cup my breasts. He kneaded and pulled at them just the way I liked, and I marveled for a moment at how perfect this was: having a new lover to learn and explore, while my familiar lover was there to touch me in all the ways that pleased me. I felt Van’s mouth on the curve between my neck and shoulder, biting softly. A moan escaped my lips.

  As I bobbed up and down on Eric’s shaft I saw out of the corner of my eye Van’s hand reach out and grasp Eric’s wrist, then pull his hand toward my breasts. Placing Eric’s hand over my breast, Van showed him how to squeeze my breasts just so, and then he slid his own hands over my hips and to my round bottom. Careful not to leave Eric’s cock unattended, I nonetheless shifted my weight to give Van better access. Van took full advantage, spreading my legs and raising my hips. I felt him slide one finger along my exposed slit, then I moaned and nearly deserted Eric’s cock in my ecstasy as I felt him push his finger inside of me.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Van said, shoving my head down to Eric’s cock again. “Suck him for all you’re worth, you little slut. And don’t stop until I say so.”

  I set to with a vengeance as I felt Van position himself behind me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him pushing the head of his cock against my pussy lips, sliding it back and forth in my now-copious juices. I moaned again and pushed back against him, wanting – needing – to feel him inside of me.

  Instead of pushing inside of me, though, I felt him pull away and then I felt the sharp sting of his hand as he slapped my ass.

  I gasped and yanked away from Eric in surprise. He grabbed me by the back of the head and pushed me toward Eric again. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Don’t – stop – until – I – say!” he said, punctuating each word with a smack on my ass. I gasped, I moaned, I wriggled, and I sucked Eric’s cock, feeling it swell hugely inside my mouth as his own excitement matched mine. I looked up in between smacks to see Eric’s eyes darting between my mouth on him and Van’s hand slapping my ass. His breath was coming in sharp pants, as was mine. My cunt throbbed and I wanted nothing more than to have a cock – either one! – shoved inside it.

  “You want to fuck her, don’t you, Eric,” Van said suddenly. It wasn’t a question.

  Eric’s hips pumped up against my mouth in answer.

  “You want to be inside this hot—” at this he shoved his fingers hard inside of me, making me gasp, “wet—” he pumped his fingers in and out of me a few times and then pulled them out to wipe my juice on my face, “pussy, don’t you?”

  “Fu-u-u-ck,” Eric panted. I could tell he was almost undone by Van’s game. I risked taking my mouth away from Eric a moment to look back at Van. It was obvious who was in control now.

  “May I?” I gasped.

  Van nodded once, tersely. I looked back up at Eric’s face, saw his nod, and slid up along his body until I was poised over him, straddling his cock. Then, slowly, I settled myself down, feeling him at my opening, pushing against my pussy lips and finally – finally! – sliding in and filling me.

  I couldn’t help the almost-sob that escaped me. It was accompanied by a groan that was pure pleasure from Eric.

  Van allowed me to slide up and down on Eric’s cock for a few strokes; allowed me to feel the building tension in Eric’s body and my own before I felt him once again positioning himself behind me.

  I didn’t need to feel the head of Van’s long, slim cock against the other opening in
my body – my ass – to know what was going to happen next. After all, we’d talked about it so many times.

  I stopped my movements and raised my ass to Van, presenting myself to him just as he had said I would when we fantasized about it. I saw Eric’s eyes widen, and then a grin begin to spread across his face.

  And that was how I ended up straddling Eric, sliding down onto his thick, hard penis while Van leaned over my back, the head of his cock nosing my asshole.

  Want to know what happened next? You’ll have to try it for yourself. A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.

  Giving Her A Hand

  Marsha, Brighton

  As long as I’ve lived in Brighton, I’d always dreamed of moving to a place where I had a sea view. I didn’t realize that, when that finally happened, I’d also get to achieve one of my other cherished dreams – that of being punished for doing something naughty.

  For the longest time, I’d tried to indicate to my boyfriends that what really got me hot and bothered was the thought of being over a man’s knee while he pulled down my panties, baring me for a richly deserved spanking. Just the idea of having my bottom slapped by a firm palm, or even a paddle or hairbrush, never failed to have my pussy gushing with juice. But somehow, all my hints, all my attempts to put myself in a position where the only remedy for my bad behaviour was a spot of discipline had come to nothing, and eventually I started to think I’d never find a guy who knew what was good for me. It took someone who I’d only ever thought of as a work colleague to recognize my submissive side and give me the spanking I’d craved for so long.

  I’d never regretted making the move to Brighton when my company relocated. It’s such a lively city to live in that they call it “London by the sea”, with excellent nightlife, quirky shops and great restaurants in the maze of streets known as The Lanes, and a real “anything goes” vibe. When I’d moved there, I’d managed to find myself a one-bedroom apartment on the north side of the city. The place was nice enough, and I got on well with my neighbours, but it wasn’t particularly convenient for work, and travelling home after a Friday night out always involved a long and expensive cab journey. So when my good friend, Alison, told me her lodger was moving out and she needed someone to take the room on, I didn’t need to think about my answer. Alison was charging a very reasonable rent and, best of all, her place was only a couple of minutes’ walk from the seafront. I pictured us having girls’ nights out together in the bars and clubs close to the pier, and going for long walks along the promenade to blow away the cobwebs the following morning. My only concern would be transporting all my possessions from the old flat to the new one; I don’t drive, so hiring a van would be out of the question, and that meant I was looking at using a pricey removal firm.