by Alison Tyler
“Max,” she’d said. “Don’t worry so much.” And she’d put his hand back on the skirt and shown him what she wanted. “Tear it.”
He’d carried her to the bed, tossed her on the mattress and gripped the skirt in both hands. The tiny tear had given way to the gaping rip that she’d done her best to pin together this morning. Safety pins couldn’t hide what he’d done. What she’d wanted him to do.
The thoughts of the previous evening made him harder than ever. He parted her legs and slid his cock in her hole. She lowered her chin and closed her eyes. He watched her expression change in the mirror.
Everything had happened in a rush. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t recall his hands working over her fishnets, creating those gaping, naughty holes. He’d demolished her shirt, pulling buttons off the bottom in his haste to remove the blouse, had nipped and bitten at her skin hard enough to leave the bruises she wore proudly today. They’d done it like beasts, hungry and loud, in a way they’d never fucked before. When he’d come on her ass, even his semen had felt hotter than usual.
And then, surprising him, she’d pushed him out of her bedroom, out of her apartment. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she’d told him, kissing his lips, lips that felt battered. “Get some sleep.”
Some was the operative word. He hadn’t gotten home until after two. Getting to work on time had taken Herculean strength.
And that had led them to this point, with him fucking her against the sink in the bathroom of the café where they both worked. He’d never seen a sexier walk of shamer, and he told her so.
“I can’t take all the credit,” she whispered as he nailed her. “You did the work on the skirt.” He thought of how he’d torn it off her the night before. He’d never thought she’d have worn the thing again, especially to work.
She pulled off him, surprising him, and went on her knees on the bathroom floor. He sucked in his breath as she sucked in his cock, licking the head and then working her mouth up and down the length. She was drinking her own juices off his rod, and he was in a state of bliss watching her. What had gotten into his girlfriend? He couldn’t imagine—but he relished every second.
“Remember how you shredded my hose?” she taunted, taking a breath. He did. He’d used his fingers to tear gaping holes in the stockings, considering the fishnets dead on arrival. She’d infused them with life for at least one more day. Still, he was shocked that she’d taken the dare to this level.
She stood and then pushed herself up on the edge of the sink. “Finish them off, baby. Tear them to shreds.”
He ripped the stockings just like she’d asked, and then he plunged into her again. She wrapped her thighs tight around his waist, and he knew he would come like that, with their bodies sealed so tightly together. He watched in the mirror as he hoisted her in his arms, palming her naked asscheeks as he bounced her.
“Next time, I want you to tie me down with my stockings,” she said, and he knew her words were going to make him come. “You’ll rip every bit of my clothes off me, and you’ll use the shreds to tie me in place.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice reduced to a harsh whisper. “Yes, yes, whatever you want.”
He came hard inside her and he felt her body responding, his orgasm tripping her own climax. He could hear the noises of the machines in the café, and he knew he had to go back to work, that customers would be coming before too long. “Are you really going to wear that all day?” he asked, watching as she did her best to resurrect her attire. Without the corset, she looked more refined. If she didn’t turn around, the customers wouldn’t know the skirt was so worked over. “I never would have thought you’d go through with this.”
“You ought to know me better than that, Max,” she said.
He tilted her chin upward and kissed her lips. “I do now,” he told her with a smile.
“You think you do,” she countered. “But you have no idea what I’m going to dare you to do tomorrow.”
SIX A.M. COFFEE
Heidi Champa
Looks like you had a rough night, Elisha.” Aaron handed me a cup of coffee as soon as I walked in the door.
I groaned, the most I could manage at six in the morning, my throat filled with sweet, creamy coffee.
“The bachelorette party got a bit out of hand. You can’t say no to the bride. You know that. And when there are two of them, well, let’s just say there was a lot of peer pressure involved. They are like bridezilla squared. Besides, once we got in the limo, there was no stopping them.”
“So, what did you guys do? Was it a dancing and getting drunk on Cristal kind of night, one club after another?”
I didn’t respond, so he kept going. He was laughing before he even started his next sentence, clearly amused with himself.
“No, wait, don’t tell me, you went to a strip club. That would explain the glitter on you and the reason you smell like that raspberry lotion you claim to hate so much.”
He laughed harder, but it died in his throat when he saw the look on my face. I gave him a sheepish grin, as I had no idea what else to say.
“Oh my god. You did. You did go to a strip club, didn’t you, Elisha?”
“All right, yes. We went to a strip club. Ranna and Jasmine wanted to go. What was I supposed to do?”
I expected him to say something negative, to tell me how stupid places like strip clubs were. Although I knew he’d been to a number of them in his time. I’d offered to go with him plenty of times before, but he’d always reserved those clubs for guys’ night. Jasmine had made it clear that all of us were going to the club before I could even protest their plans. But, if I was being honest, I didn’t want to say no. I was curious to see what all the fuss was about. And turned on by the thought of it all.
Aaron sat back and sipped his coffee, his blue eyes softening around the edges.
“So. You. At a strip club.”
I sighed, leaning my chin in my hand. I was in no mood for one of his little diatribes on the best of days. I certainly wasn’t ready for one at six in the morning and after the night I’d had.
“Aaron, I’m tired. Just say what you want to say and get it over with. Judge me, I don’t care.”
He set his coffee cup down and tapped his fingers on the table. I closed my eyes, waiting for his response. He cleared his throat, and the first words out of his mouth were barely a whisper.
“Did you get a lap dance?”
I opened my eyes and looked at him, expectation all over his face.
“What?”
“You heard me, Elisha. Did you?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
He slid out of his chair and came to kneel beside me. He pulled on the legs of my chair until I was facing him, my bare feet in his hands. His eyes filled with lust as his hands ran up my legs, the heat of his skin soothing down the goose bumps that had formed.
“I’m just curious is all. So, did you?”
I licked my lips as his hands kept traveling upward, stopping at my knees.
“Yes. I did. Jasmine bought us all dances.”
The breath Aaron had been holding came out in a hiss. His fingers dug into my flesh, the tiny shots of pain making me crazy. Before I could say another word, he pushed my thighs apart, the tiny scrap of fabric that passed for my underwear now exposed.
“What was her name?”
“The stripper?”
“Yes, the stripper.”
“Her name was Vanessa.”
Aaron rubbed his thumbs along my inner thighs, each pass moving further up my legs, each stroke a delicate tease. I eased down the chair, bringing my hips forward, trying to move him along. But he did things at his own pace, just like always.
“What did she look like?”
I thought back to the girl I had seen on stage, twirling herself around the brass pole with ease. As soon as I’d seen her, I’d been transfixed. There was just something about her, something that sent a zing right to my pussy. I had no idea how I was goin
g to explain it to Aaron, but I wanted to try.
“Blond hair, a little taller than me. Nice round hips and a great ass.”
“Big tits?”
I gasped as he moved one hand up my thigh, brushing the tips of his fingers against the fabric that covered my rapidly moistening cunt. He dropped a kiss on my other leg, the warm trail of his tongue tormenting me.
“No. Not really. They just looked like they would be nice to touch. And her skin was so beautiful. Tan and smooth.”
He looked up at me, his eyes on mine as I felt the crotch of my panties being pushed aside.
“Did you get a chance to touch her tits, Elisha, during the lap dance?”
I swallowed as his finger slid across my wet pussy lips, slipping between them with ease. I wanted him inside me, but he kept his distance, just the barest contact between us. I knew my next words would change all that. I couldn’t wait to see his face.
“Yeah.”
Aaron’s mouth fell open just a bit and his free hand dropped to his crotch, his hardening cock making a tent in his flannel pajama pants.
“Shit, that’s hot. Guys are never allowed to touch. You’re lucky.”
As his finger started to slide inside me, I kept talking.
“She did more than let me touch her. She made me.”
Aaron shuddered as he started to finger-fuck me, the memories of the night flooding back. My voice was husky; the only other sound in the room was his heavy breathing.
“She was facing away from me, grinding her ass against my lap. When she leaned back, she put her hands on top of mine and slid them up her sides and over her tits. Her nipples were rock hard against my palms. After that, I couldn’t resist pinching them, and she let me. In fact, she told me to do it harder. She had the sexiest voice.”
“Then what happened?”
As he slowly moved his finger inside me, I pushed my hips forward again, giving him better access to my cunt. He obliged me by adding a second finger, but his pace was still slow and steady. I needed more and I knew just how to get it.
“Then she slid one of my hands down her stomach until I was touching her G-string. I thought she’d stop there, but she didn’t. Before I could stop her, she pushed my hand down again and I was touching her pussy. She was so wet.”
Aaron yanked me out of my chair and bent me over our kitchen table, my coffee spilling across the wood in the process. He flipped my skirt up and yanked off my thong. His hands rested on my ass, his voice nearly a growl when he spoke.
“Keep going, Elisha. I want to hear more.”
I opened my mouth to speak but the words didn’t come as Aaron ran his tongue down the crack of my ass, teasing my tight pucker before moving down to my wet cunt. I felt him spread me open, his tongue teasing my wet slit as his fingers slid over my clit. I pushed back against his face, inching my legs apart. Finally, I found my voice again.
“She kept moving my hand, rubbing my fingers over her clit, rolling her hips. My other hand was still on her tit, pinching her nipple. Soon, she wasn’t guiding me at all. It was all me. I made her come, Aaron. Right there in the Champagne Room. It was so hot. I wish you had been there, baby. I wish you could have watched us.”
He wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked hard, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive bud. I cried out, my thighs starting to shake with sweet anticipation. Suddenly, his mouth was gone. He replaced it with a swift slap of his hand on my ass. Then another. And another. One more spank rained down, my skin growing hot. He leaned down over me, biting my earlobe before he spoke.
“Here I was, worried something terrible had happened to you, and you were busy fingering a stripper.”
He stood back up, his hand pressed against the back of my neck, another flurry of spanks peppering my ass.
“Aaron, please. I’m sorry.”
He stopped just long enough to push two fingers back inside my pussy, slicing through my wetness with ease. Three more hard slaps rang out in the room, my yells joining them. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and Aaron turned me around roughly.
“Lucky for you, Elisha, I’m too horny to be mad right now.”
He shoved me onto my back, my ass on the edge of the messy table. I looked up at him just in time to see him enter me and grasp one of my ankles in each hand. He pushed my legs high and wide, fucking me hard and deep.
“Play with your nipples for me, Elisha. Since you like doing it so much.”
I did as he told me and exposed my breasts, rolling each nipple between a thumb and forefinger. I moaned, tightening my pussy around his hard cock, the pace of his thrusts increasing just slightly. I met his eyes; the normally warm blue looked steely cold as he fucked me, moving the table with the force of his body. He moved over me, his face inches from mine, my legs going around his back. He pressed my hands down against the table, his strength overwhelming me.
“Did Vanessa make you come, Elisha?”
I moaned as he punctuated my name with a hard stroke of his cock, my breath stolen by a rough kiss.
“No. The dance ended too fast.”
“Too bad. I bet that would have been a sight to see.”
The push and pull of him inside me was slowed to a crawl, my back arching as he took one of my nipples between his teeth. He released me, fucking me with abandon, rocking the whole table. I couldn’t take it anymore, my body coiled tight for too long. As his cock was in me to the hilt, I started to come, my moans swallowed by his greedy lips. Each wave knocked me over, each ebb followed by another, stronger crest. Aaron grunted right in my ear as he came. Our voices combined to make a guttural noise that echoed off the yellow walls of the kitchen.
I could barely move, even after his weight was off me. The fatigue I’d been battling all night overtook me, and I found myself scooped up in Aaron’s arms and on my way to bed. As he draped the comforter over us, I nestled into the crook of his arm.
“So am I forgiven for being late, Aaron?”
“For now. But you might just need a bit more punishment later. After all, you did make me worry.”
He held me tighter and gave my ass a playful slap. I sighed at the contact, my ass still tender from his slaps.
“Remind me to thank Jasmine and Ranna at the wedding.”
I looked at him through barely open eyes and managed a smile. “For what?”
“For making you get a lap dance, Elisha.”
“I’m sure they’ll be happy to know you approve.”
Aaron kissed me, the soft press of his lips stealing the last of my energy. All the coffee in the world couldn’t have kept me up for much longer.
“Elisha?”
“Yes, Aaron.”
“Do you think Vanessa works at the club every weekend?”
I looked at him, his mischievous smile.
“I don’t know. Why?”
He planted a kiss on my forehead, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Because I thought maybe we could get her to finish that lap dance for you. And this time, I’ll make sure it doesn’t end too soon.”
SEVEN A.M. CHANGE OF SHIFT
Cheyenne Blue
Andrea creeps home before daylight. The dawn is swelling outside, starting the gradual build to the day, but at the moment it’s still dark inside the house. Andrea pushes the button on the coffeemaker that Kai has set ready before he went to bed the night before. As the coffee drips, she sheds her sensible nurse’s shoes and releases her hair from its tight ponytail. There’s no sound from the bedroom.
She steals the first cup before the coffeemaker has stopped dripping. The best cup, she calls it, the strongest and darkest, with the most flavor. She drinks it black and sweet.
The rest of the pot is ready by the time she’s finished her first mug. She pours herself a refill, and a mug for Kai—milky white, no sugar. There’s still no sound from the bedroom. A mug in each hand, she pads on stockinged feet to the bedroom door. The blinds are pulled down tight, but in the shadows, she ca
n see Kai sleeping. He’s sprawled on his stomach, one arm above his head. His breathing is soft and even. The sheet is down below his waist, revealing the shadowy curve of his buttocks.
Andrea watches him sleep for a moment. She wonders what time he got to bed last night. But as a junior doctor, even if it was in the small hours after a night emergency, he’s still expected to be dressed in a clean white coat, trailing behind the consultant, nodding sagely as the consultant does the early-morning rounds.
She’s turning, starting to creep away to let him sleep that bit longer, when he stirs, rolls over, stretches, and says, “Busy night?”
He sounds wide awake, as if he’s only been feigning sleep, but Andrea knows that’s not the case. He’s used to being jolted awake for medical emergencies; he knows how to leap into consciousness in an instant.
“Not too bad. Only a couple of cases. And Bibi brought gumbo, so we ate well.”
He nods. He understands the jerky pace of the operating room at night: adrenaline, and hasty bites of tepid cafeteria leftovers when it’s busy; chatter, catnaps, and reheated home-cooked food when it’s quiet. He glances at the clock and Andrea says, “You can sleep for another hour if you want.”
“No.” He moves to one side of the bed. “Join me?”
“I need a shower first.”
“Later. After I’ve left.” He flips the sheet back and reveals his erection, large and luscious, lying flat against his belly.
Kai’s morning erections are indeed a thing of wonder. Kai is far from her first lover, but his cock is impressive, even by Andrea’s standards. It’s as if his arousal is tied to the dawn, running in sync with the building of the day. She’s watched him before, and as dawn’s fingers creep through the cracks in the blinds, as darkness segues to gray morning, Kai swells along with the light.
