“I was going to tell you,” she said, removing the blindfold at long last, “exactly the same thing. But?”
“But what?”
“The reason you’re such a great fuck is because of the pleasure you give me beforehand – the way you grouse me before your cock enters. You are the Viceroy of the Vulva.”
Erica Jong might have said it better, but who cares. “With the blindfold, you fucked somebody besides me, didn’t you?”
“George Clooney,” she said. “He must be good. Multiple orgasms. I did enjoy the blindfold.”
Jessica kissed my shoulder and let her hand slide down my chest, over my stomach to where she could grab my softening penis. “You were absolutely wonderful, like always,” she told me. “Why don’t you roll me over and tie my wrists?”
“And then?”
“And then see what your wonderful tongue can do to my puckered puff.”
“The little bud that hides where the sun doesn’t shine?”
“It wants your loving.”
“This time I’ll wear the blindfold.”
“Tell me whose ass you’ll be kissing and tonguing?”
“I’ll let you know when I decide.”
Molding a nice new section of clay. The Marquis de Sade would’ve been proud.
The things I did to Jessica obliterated all reason as it related to the rest of our lives. Again, her quest for a fiery, uninhibited lover was realized, at least temporarily. My foreplay was like poetry. She was an instrument in my clutches. I tuned all the right strings and lustily played the melody, coaxing forth all the right notes, and the primitive female within her. Now her ass crack would experience me. After tying her wrists to the headboard and getting her knees under her, I placed the blindfold over my eyes.
“This will be interesting,” I told her. “Going just by touch and taste.”
My hands quickly found her rump. My thumbs spread apart her cheeks. I delicately probed the edges of her puckered sphincter with my tongue. The blindfold’s tip tickled her back. She wanted to wiggle her ass, but held steady, wanting my attention and tongue to stay right where they were. To be exposed like this went to the deepest core of her sexual feelings.
No one had ever tongued her before me. Licking her ass seemed an act of delicious, heartbreakingly tender giving, not to mention the adoration I showed her vagina. A finger filled her rectum. Her tight ring clenched. I never asked her if this or that was all right. I knew I was pleasing her.
Then the finger was replaced with my thumb. It anchored my hand while my middle finger sought out her clitoris. The move reminded her of a two-headed sex toy she’d seen in a magazine designed to titillate pussy and fanny simultaneously.
With her wrists tied and her liquid interiors breached, she imagined she was submitting to a mild form of inquiry by the Spanish Inquisition. “No, Father, no. I’m not a witch. I just love sex.” She said it was heavenly torture and she did start to wiggle her rump now that she’d been harpooned. “I’m ready for the great white whale,” she told me.
“The dark tunnel or the velvet glove?”
“Father knows best.”
I cheated. I lifted my blindfold and looked at the parts which were being offered. My hand acted as a modified chastity belt. Once removed, I had my choice of delights. Her orifices puckered and blossomed, and invited me to slither in. Picking either canal would have been predictable, so I did neither.
A lagniappe – something unexpected – would be better. I bade her lie flat. I took hold of her ankles and lifted them up as I stood on the bed. My big right toe traced a line across her shoulders and down her spine where I grasped a little cheek skin between my toes and the ball of my foot. Jessica giggled. I looked down over her slender legs at her little rump. With her bent knees, her feet became a small landing pad.
The vagina may be the soul of sex, but the extremities are no less provocative. I gazed in hard-on wonder at the bare twin globes, split by the hypnotic fissure, all of which formed the near-perfect fanny. I kissed the arches of her feet before I laid my cock on her footpads in such a way that my scrotum pressed against the tips of her toes. Jessica’s head turned to one side. Most women would have asked, “What the fuck are you up to?” Not Jesse. She knew to expect the unexpected. We were sensation seekers. We didn’t hold each other back.
I began to move my cock back and forth across the bottoms of her feet – reflex-cock-ology, you might say. I occasionally lifted my balls onto the surface. Her high arches made a nice hollow where they could roll around. Her toes responded and tickled my thighs.
I pounded my hard-on against her heels. When it suited me, I straightened her feet to align with her legs into a diving position. I forced the friendly weapon between her arches and pumped so I could see it disappear between them and re-emerge on the far side like a huge rope threading skin. My penis and her feet formed strange dance partners in a dizzying charade of intercourse. I wished Erica Jong could have been there with Dr Ruth along to provide a clinical opinion.
My throbbing rod turned red then purple. “Fire in the hole,” I shouted as an unexpected rush caused me to shoot a series of pearly loads. They splattered on Jessica’s butt and ran down her crack. After I stopped trembling, I released her feet so she could lie flat. With my hands, I channeled the semen on her butt into the top of her crack, making a shallow trough where gravity would take over. My jism ran down to her anus. I helped the rest along as it flowed toward the velvet box where it adhered to her delicate petals.
I climbed beneath her and positioned my head opposite her dewy mound. I’d returned to home base, plunging my tongue into her snatch, and dined again on her semen-coated flower. An idle hand massaged the sweet spot on her anus and ran along the sticky trail I’d left behind.
When Jessica stopped screaming from another orgasm she’d felt all the way down to her feet, I untied her. A sheepish look crept over my face. “Hope I covered all your bases.”
She smiled. It was a tolerant smile that said, I always accept your behavior. “Your mouth must be tired. It worked overtime today.”
“All in a day’s play, my lovely. If we had more time, we’d play something besides blind man’s gynecologist/proctologist.”
“Next time we’ll play nurse and I’ll do the examining,” Jessica said. “You’ve given me a few ideas.”
I told her that my genitals fluttered at the thought. When the last shudders of pleasure had passed, the fiery heat reduced to embers, we finished our afternoon with a quick shower. As we dried each other, Jessica touched my nipples and tickled them with her fingernail. Then she laid some gentle kisses on my cock.
With a sparkle in her eyes and a slight blush in her cheeks, she said, “There are times when I wish you had three dicks.”
“So do I,” I answered and suckled her breasts, sans ice; my way of saying, “Goodbye.”
Then I sucked gently at the soft petal of her ear lobe before making three sweeping strokes across her torso with the tip of my tongue, just below her breasts. “The mark of Zorro,” I said, “so you’ll remember who you’re dealing with.”
She laughed. “OK, Zorro. Hang onto your mask.”
We stood next to each other in front of the mirror. We tossed back our hair and fluffed it with our fingers.
“You’re like Chinese food. In an hour I’ll be hungry again,” Jessica told me. “You make it like poetry at times, and like a porn flick at other times. I’ll never think about bare feet in quite the same way.”
“Glad to be of service.”
“I think the heat you generate might bring the global warming police down on us.”
“I’ll use my fire extinguisher,” I chuckled.
“So, it’s home to our separate lives,” she added with a reluctant sigh.
“It’s not so bad. Even though our ex-spouses threaten to take our children at any misstep, we wouldn’t trade anything for our kids. Not even this. They wouldn’t be able to handle us. Kids have such great imaginations.”
>
“Not the kind we have, thank goodness,” Jessica added.
“Even when I’m enjoying them, my mind drifts to thoughts of our secret meetings.”
“Don’t be so sweet. You’ll ruin my fantasies.”
“Just think of George Clooney then.”
“Whose ass were you cleaning before you foot-fucked me?”
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. After having sex with you, I tongued out Keira Knightley, foot-fucked Anne Hathaway, and kissed Natalie Portman’s fanny. Pretty good for one afternoon.”
“Keep the blindfold handy because I might want to go down on Javier Bardem next week.”
“Uncensored sex brings out both the angel and the demon,” I said with a smile. “We give ourselves permission to experience. Neither of us will die an unlived life.”
“What?”
“Just figures of speech concerning the garden of earthly delights, my sweet one.”
“You’re getting too cerebral for me now. Next week, same time, same place. And be prepared to get blown away. I’ll play you like a bagpipe.”
“If only your ex had known the right combination for that velvet glove of yours, I’d never have met you.”
“He’d never be the Pasha of Pussy or the Sultan of Sensuality that you are.” She gave my penis a quick, final peck before getting dressed. “Besides, I think it’s the little bend in your cock which made it hard for me to concentrate on even George Clooney.”
I licked my lips, savoring one final taste of her, and said, “Our bodies are more than lust to one another. They are messengers of life itself, my beautiful piece of molded clay.”
She smiled that sly Jessica smile and then grabbed my wrist and slid my finger into her mouth. “A prelude, Mister. Guess I’ll just have to muddle through and make do with thoughts of our games with my genitals aflutter until I see you again.”
I put on my clothes without taking my eyes off her because she made the act of getting dressed no less erotic than a striptease as she moved with unintentional grace. Then she was done and gone. I waited five minutes, seven floors above reality, and then left as well, already thinking about an encounter with a bagpipe player as I return to the busy street and once again dodge the yellow tape surrounding a noisy jackhammer.
Intuition is seeing with the soul. As good as sex is with Jessica, I knew our affair wouldn’t last much longer. Our flame was too bright to sustain on a permanent basis. But I knew that going in. There is a certain kind of beauty in accepting and giving uninhibited affection while aware that it comes with the high price of eventual loss.
With so many promises and commitments, we were needed outside of our together-world, even if being needed wasn’t the same as being loved. Maybe the ending of such an affair is the way we do penance for our less than perfect natures. And when the end comes, my body will miss her, but my mind and heart will, too. The memories I will never forget, whatever time might do to me. Life is like a book. When you’re born, the book opens and you live from page to page. When you die, the book snaps shut. My secret liaisons with Jessica had provided some of the richest verses of all in this most recent chapter. They will be etched on my soul. When it’s over, I’ll miss her forever.
For now, a deep-seeded need which both satisfies and complements our lives holds us together, helps us cope with the other facets of our existences. It is as simple and as complex as that. Regardless of the future, I think about Jessica in the role of a nurse and began to fantasize. She will wear nothing but her sweet smile . . . and maybe a nurse’s hat. She will check my blood pressure and listen to my heartbeat, and eventually bury her head in my lap. Her head will bob up and down while I finger her hair and then clutch it fiercely when I ejaculate.
Maybe it doesn’t have to end. All the pages are not yet written. Maybe the script can yet be altered. But these are issues for another time. Just maybe we’ll stay together.
Learning To Share
Dan, Liverpool, New York
Karen and I weren’t dating. She was dating Phillip and I had not really gotten over my divorce enough to consider dating. I’m not sure why Karen kept coming over from her apartment two doors over, but I kept inviting her because she liked to talk about sex.
She was small with dark hair and dark eyes. She tended to wear thin, silky dresses cut above her knee. Sitting on the sofa opposite me, she seemed less fully dressed and more wrapped in a floral wrap. Already that morning I’d had one or two quick peeks at her black panties and her bra strap was hanging loose on her shoulder. There was something intensely erotic about having her in my flat. Every time we talked, she managed to work something about her sex habits into the conversation. Maybe it was that my wife had cheated on me and somehow having Phillip’s girl talking to me about fucking was letting me see things from the other side.
No one liked Phillip. He was some sort of a salesman and usually loud and drunk on a Friday night. None of us in the building could imagine why such a hot chick was staying with a loser like him.
“He likes to fuck me in the mornings,” she said, turning a cup of coffee with a spoon. I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten into the habit of coffee. I hated the stuff but drank it eagerly as she sat on my overstuffed sofa and told her tales. “Did you know?”
I didn’t know.
“It’s not love,” she went on, putting down the cup. “It just makes him feel macho; fucking me first thing in the morning. Then whoever it is he’s fucking at work is just a little on the side.”
She looked me in the eye. Her face was narrow and her mouth very small with peach-colored lips. “Dan, does it bother you that twenty minutes ago I was getting my pussy stretched by another man and now I’m sitting here talking to you?”
I cleared my throat. I was wearing light trousers and was afraid that my throbbing erection was going to tear right through. “Uh, no, that’s OK,” I managed.
She leaned back in the sofa, slipped off her pumps, and put one bare foot up on my glass coffee table. I could see the creamy lengths of her thighs all the way up to the round inside fold of her ass cheeks. There, over her pussy, her panties were wet and black.
“Does it bother you,” her voice was soft; I couldn’t take my eyes off her wet mound, “that I’m sitting here talking to you about fucking while my pussy is full of another man’s cum?”
My cock hurt! “No, that’s, um . . . OK.” I wasn’t sure where this was going but if it didn’t end in sex, I knew I was going to die.
She slid her panties to one side with a thin finger. Her pussy, between neatly trimmed rows of black hair, was still swollen and pink from the earlier fucking. Although she was small, her lips had that fresh-fucked thickness about them and the hole was shiny and wet. She dipped in a finger from her other hand. It came out thick with cum, which she rubbed gently back into her lips.
I looked up from her pussy to see her eyes on mine. “I always figured, if a bloke fucked me while I was full of another man’s cum, then I’d know it was just fucking; that we were just getting off. Do you know what I mean?”
I went over the coffee table so fast that both coffee cups ended on the floor. I wasted several seconds wrestling with her dress and bra but she knew what she wanted. Under my furiously bucking body, her hands found their way to my zipper. My cock was out in a second and she guided it smoothly into her smoking pussy.
I’d only pounded her about twenty times when she came hard with a shriek. Her pussy juice and his cum formed a foaming ring around the base of my cock as she shuddered. I only lasted a few seconds longer, filling her already overflowing pussy with a second load of cum.
She grabbed my ass as I started to slide out. “No, wait,” she gasped. “Feed it to me. I want to eat it not knowing who’s cum it is.”
I put one hand under my dick and slipped two fingers into her pussy as my dick slid out. Our faces were side by side and I watched her suck a heavy load of cum off my fingers with her lips. She slid her tongue between my fingers, catching every drop.
“More,” she breathed.
Again and again she had me slip my fingers into her dripping cunt and feed her our juices. She asked me to slip my cum-covered fingers inside her bra, getting cum all over her nipples and making her clothes stick to her.
When she was starting to get empty, I fucked her again. This time she had me rub my cum-covered hands all over her ass cheeks and slide a cummy finger into her asshole. When we were finished, she laid her head in the crook of my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know that Phillip doesn’t really love me, but I’ve never been sure what it was like to just fuck.”
I didn’t really know what to say. In a few minutes she got up and went back to her flat.
I didn’t hear from her for a few days. I was really turned on and desperately wanted to bang her again but I was afraid that that was that. She’d explored what she wanted and didn’t want to hear from me again.
The morning of the third day, my phone woke me from sleep. It was her.
“Hey, Dan,” she whispered into the phone. “Did you have fun the other day?”
“Yeah,” I answered with sleep fog still in my head. “I’d like to see you again.”
“Yeah,” she agreed breathlessly. “Me, too. Listen. Phillip wants to fuck me this morning. He always does it right after his shower. I’m going to let you in while he’s showering. You can watch us from my closet, then fuck me while it’s still hot, OK?”
I didn’t know how Phillip would react if he caught me in the flat but how could I say no?
Like mine, their flat was an open affair with a tasteful dining-room/living-room combo, and a pair of bedrooms with wide patios. She was naked when she answered the door.
She put a finger over my lips before I could speak. “He’s almost done,” she hissed.
I could hear the shower running. We slipped down the hall past the bathroom with Phillip inside and ducked into the bedroom.
When she said she wanted me to watch, I had no idea how close she meant. The closet in the main bedroom was right next to the bed and had sliding doors. When she let me in and lay down on the bed, I could see her clearly through the slats. She was so close I could have touched her.
The Mammoth Book of Urban Erotic Confessions Page 42
