by Poppy Romero
“You sure?”
I moaned, closing my eyes. “Fuck me Michael.”
He slid into me, slowly at first. Any part of me still resisting what was going on gave in the instant I felt myself envelop his hardness. He teased me with shallow, gentle strokes, gradually slipping his stiff length into me inch by inch. I couldn't have dreamed that he would be this way, no matter how many times I'd pictured him mounting me. Each thrust sent floods of endorphins coursing through my body.
I looked across at Sara, watching as Ed's pace increased. It felt so weird watching them fuck, but so amazing I kind of didn't care. She was gasping, her breath cresting as she arched her back and shuddered into an orgasm.
Michael started to thrust into me, closing his eyes with pleasure. I'd never felt so raw, so turned on, but Michael had been here a little longer and was so much more aroused. His face was contorted into a grimace of ecstasy, and he grasped both my hips as he pounded me.
He looked across at Sara, still gasping from her orgasm. Ed continued to thrust into her with one hand resting on the car's hood. She looked across at me, and grinned.
“Ed darling,” She growled, sliding a hand down his chest, “Don't you think you should save yourself for our guest?”
He grinned back at her and pulled out. As he stepped away, the stranger who had been in Sara's hand stepped round the car, and between her legs. With a nod, he slipped inside her.
Ed came and stood beside my head, one hand holding his jeans up and the other stroking his cock. He came and stood beside me, watching Mike as his pace started to increase. I could tell by his breathing he was close. Watching him bearing down on me with that blissful look of pleasure on his face was all I needed to start my own orgasm rolling.
I felt as though my mind was being pushed to one side by a flood of pleasure and arousal, building the whole night and threatening to break under the sheer hotness of the situation around me. And I wanted it to break. I wanted to become part of this shameless public display of sex.
Mike began slamming into me as fast as he could, each slap of his hips against my inner thighs drawing a helpless gasp from me. I had lost all control, my mind sinking further and further under the sea of orgasmic bliss.
I came at the same moment Michael and Ed did, the warmth of Michael's come bursting inside me with my own orgasm. I threw my head back and gasped, feeling a spatter of warmth across my bare chest. Ed's hand was a blur as his virile sperm covered my naked body.
Somehow, all three of us regained our bearings, and I looked up to see Ed standing smiling down at me, and Mike still inside me. His eyes were closed as he milked the aftershocks of my orgasm with slow, deep strokes.
I sighed. I didn't know what to say. I leaned up on my elbows and looked across at Sara, still getting fucked by the stranger.
I grinned at Michael as he opened his eyes. “I suppose I could stay a while and watch...”
So, to cut a long story short, we all got back and had a long talk, and a longer night together. Now I don't worry about waiting until Ed and Sara are out before getting naked. I don't need to lock, or even close the door when I want a steamy read in the bath. And Michael's been coming round a lot more.
I've been getting bolder when we all go out as well. I want to be in the middle of a circle, someday soon.
As soon as it happens, I'll be sure to let you know...
Dirty Weekend
Have you ever had an experience so hot that it enters your fantasies? Something that after a while you can't remember what actually happened, and what you dreamed up alone at night, hands between your legs and a grin on your face?
For me, it was the summer after the second year of university. I was approaching the end of it in disappointment. I'd thrown myself into my university work too much, and hadn't really concentrated on socialising enough.
So some friends and I made plans to get together for a barbecue, maybe hit the town afterwards. Most of the people there were people I already knew, and it was going to be nice to just get together with people and relax.
And that's where I met Dan. One of my friends had invited him over because he was – like me – hanging around campus waiting for the term to end. Never really spent much time with him before, but there was something about him. He wasn't even your usual tall, dark and handsome cliché (besides, I was usually more attracted to sportier guys).
We kind of knew each other, since (as with most student groups), we were both on the periphery of each others social circles. I'd seen him a few times at parties, he knew my name, and we'd even been in joint conversations a few times, but I don't think we'd ever really talked until then.
Our mutual friend – his best friend – had already 'talked me up' to him and sounded out whether or not he thought he'd be interested, so there was this weird, unspoken knowledge in the background that we were both interested, just neither of us was really mentioning it.
There was just something about him though. He barely spoke, and when he did it was always something thought provoking. I found myself looking his way even when he wasn't talking.
OK, sue me, I fell for the mysterious intellectual. Anyway.
Most of the night we'd hardly said a word to each other, but as the conversation built, we started to lock horns over things and engage more on a one-to one level. As the night wore on, it got to be just us sitting by the smouldering remains of the fire. It must have been obvious how cold it was though, since he kept offering me his coat.
Eventually he pointed out that his room was nearby. My heart almost skipped a beat as I accepted his hand.
I don't even really remember what we talked about on the way there, I just remember trying to get close to him. Following him into his building, then into his room with my heart hammering against my chest.
Anyway, we ended up sitting in his room, listening to music, just talking. I don't even remember the conversation, just that I spent more time worrying that I was fucking things up than I did talking, and my attempts at flirting were just awful.
By the end of the night, when he hadn't made a move, I said it was getting late and I'd better head back to mine.
I'd assumed the night was over. If only I'd known!
Before I left, I stopped to give him a hug, and he just kind of enveloped me. He pressed his body against me, leaned his head into the crook of my neck, and wrapped his arms around my waist.
It felt amazing, and I just melted into his embrace. I have no idea how long we were standing there, but at some point his lips gently touched my neck, kissing me.
I kissed him on the ear. His kissed my neck again, this time a little higher. I kissed his cheek. He kissed mine. And we locked lips and kissed properly.
He was so gentle, that's the thing. Every movement of his lips brushed softly against mine, like he was savouring the moment. Sucking gently on my lip and then sighing as he brushed his cheek against mine.
We kind of stood there after the moment was over, just appreciating each other's warmth in the night air. Eventually I coughed and looked up at him.
“We uh... we could go back inside?”
He just smiled and followed me in.
We basically got into his room and went straight for the creaky old single bed in the corner. I mean, it was student housing, so there wasn't really much choice, but we both knew what we wanted.
We lay down, and he moved his hand up my side, making smooth, long strokes up my ribs with his broad hands, kissing me the whole time.
His hands didn't wander though, at least not at first. He'd clearly mentally made a very valiant decision about waiting for me to initiate things, but unfortunately his body was having trouble respecting his decision. I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into my hip as we lay alongside each other kissing.
He was such a good kisser. I mean it was like he was trying to involve every part of my mouth – kissing my top lip, then the bottom, then gently kissing a line down my neck to my collarbone. I could feel his arousal
pressing against my inner thigh every time he leaned in to kiss the nape of my neck, but it was a good thing he couldn't feel my arousal - I was damn near squirming just to stop myself from moaning or giving the game away.
That's when he pulled me over on top of him. He just kind of rolled, and I ended up lying face down on top of him with one of his thighs between my legs, pressing against my sensitive clit.
I couldn't help myself. He was running his hands through my hair, kissing me deeply, and shifting his weight to grind me against his thigh. I was going crazy, the seam on my jeans pressing against me in a happy accident that was starting to make me giddy with arousal.
It was crazy. When I masturbate I tend to lie on my front, and somehow he'd managed to roll me into my favourite position. Only this time it wasn't my hand between my legs, it was his thigh. I ground myself against it, moaning into his open mouth.
I was supposed to be a respectable university student, and there I was, dry humping this guy like we were a pair of teenagers. The position was perfect, and I ground myself into him shamelessly, surprised by how quickly I felt myself falling into an orgasm.
It overtook me quickly – quicker than I had been expecting - and I hid my head in the nape of his neck as I cried out, my body burning and tingling with pleasure. I couldn't believe it - we hadn't even undressed, and I'd come with this guy I'd only really met earlier that day!
I lay on top of him, gasping for breath. It had been such a long time since I’d come with someone else there, I suddenly felt selfish, like I should have included him in it.
I could feel his hardness pressing against me, insistent. Poor thing. I slid down his body a little, and reached into his waistband.
Through his jeans his penis had seemed impressive, but in my hand it felt silky smooth, and powerful. I grasped it, massaging the length as we kissed. It was like we were joined both at the lips and the hips.
I undid his belt and slipped his jeans over his thighs. His cock sprang free, pointing up at me as he kicked his jeans off onto the floor. He looked firm, and rigid, and I could just imagine how good it would feel to have it slipping into me. I put my hand on it again, feeling it twitch with his arousal.
He looked me in the eyes and asked if I was sure. I guess if he'd asked me at the door or when I was in my right mind, I might have said no. But the moment overtook me, and I sank my head down on his glorious length instead of answering him directly.
I must have taken him by surprise, either with the contrast between the cold room and my warm mouth, or just the unexpectedness of my move. He gasped, and I felt his stomach muscles contract as I ran a hand up his abs.
I didn't care about niceties, or the taste, or really anything except the thought of what I was doing to him. I mean I had no idea what I was doing – it had been a long time since I'd had time for a guy, much less to be willing to do this for him. It just seemed like the sexiest thing I could possibly do, a clear and unambiguous statement of how I much wanted him.
I stroked him with my other hand, feeling him getting harder and harder. As I sucked on him, I reached down and popped the button on my jeans, trying to wiggle them off my hips. My panties just about peeled off, they were so wet with arousal.
Before kicking off the jeans, I reached into the pocket and took out the condoms I'd left there, in the hope that things might end up going this way.
I lay back on the bed, watching as he turned over and knelt above me. Even watching him manhandle that magnificent cock into the condom gave me a rush of arousal.
He climbed between my legs, and started to tease around the entrance to my pussy, rubbing his shaft over the slick, hot lips. I groaned, feeling that exquisite release of the tension that had been building since my first orgasm.
He looked me in the eyes once more, his dick lined up perfectly to impale me. Maybe he was waiting for me to give him permission, or he was just teasing me. I couldn't wait any longer, so I hitched my hips up, pressing him into me, breaking into the opening of my warm, wet pussy.
He pushed back, slipping further into me with each shallow stroke. Every time he slipped a little deeper into me it felt like a flood of pure pleasure tingling through my body. I looked up to see him sliding in and out gently, this massive shadow enveloping me and pumping into me.
His pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming longer and harder. Each time he pushed into me all the way it felt like heaven – like someone was trying to push my womb out through my mouth, but in a good way. He was stretching me, making me keen and throw my head back as I felt another orgasm begin to rise.
“I'm coming!” He whispered, and those two simple words unlocked the rising fever between my legs. I exploded into orgasm, my legs locking around his back, kicking him deeper inside with my heels.
“Yes! Come! Oh god yes, come!” I cried, no longer muffling myself in his neck. I didn't care who knew that this amazing man was giving me the orgasm of a lifetime, I just wanted to cry out with sheer pleasure.
His pumping became erratic, then slowed, and then he pulled out of me, rolling off to one side. I lay there panting, trying to get my heart and my body back under control.
Hell of a way to blow off steam!
The problem was, we both knew the end of term was coming, and we would both have to go back to our parents for the summer. We weren't exactly at opposite ends of the country, but we certainly weren't within a reasonable distance of each other, either.
We stayed in touch, and by that I mean we phoned each other most days. It helped a little, at least talking did. Of course this was all long, long before camera phones and Skype, so long distance meant being a little more imaginative.
We'd call each other late night, and masturbate over the phone to each other. That hadn't started off as the plan, but it happened anyway and became a regular fixture. We'd post each other stupid little notes and letters, full of coded references that (looking back) I'm pretty sure weren't that subtle at all.
I'd thought of sending him pictures, but I couldn't afford a Polaroid. I couldn't stand the thought of some seedy guy in a photo lab leering over my naked body either – at least, not back then.
So description became my camera. I'd tell him what I was doing, what I wanted to do as soon as I got hold of him, what I wanted him to do to me. I blush to think of it now, but maybe that's why I love erotica so much. It takes me back to those days of seeing a pageful of smut and knowing that on the other end of it is a human being burning with desire.
Dan had a real way with words, and as his confidence in opening up to me grew, so did the depth of the fantasy world we built together. He'd surprise me more and more, coming up with ideas and descriptions of fantasies that made me blush as I read them, and flush later on the phone as I told him what I thought, what I liked, what I imagined of him.
I think this is when we discovered a taste for his controlling side. Because he couldn't be there to do things to me, he'd tell me what to do. At first, it started with suggestions, gentle nudges towards things he wanted to imagine me doing. Then gradually, he started giving me commands. And I discovered I loved letting him take over.
It didn't really seem like enough though, and we talked about visiting each other. My parents... they're a little old-fashioned, so I didn't think he'd be able to come visit me - not unless we wanted the visit to end in even more frustration. His parents weren't really in a position to accommodate either though, so we had assumed we'd spend the rest of the holiday frustrated.
Until the day Dan called and said he'd managed to book us two nights in a hotel about halfway between us. It was perfect – nobody else around to interfere, just the two of us and all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.
My main memories were of my nerves on the train, meeting him at the station that evening, walking back through town holding hands. Neither of us were talking much, I was just so nervous to see him again.
I think he could tell, because halfway there he pulled me into an alleyway and pulled me cl
ose, kissing me. I hadn't been expecting it, but it was exactly what I needed. God I'd missed him. I pressed against him, my fingers like claws in his shoulders. Just like when we'd first met there'd been a nervousness, and being reminded of the sheer physical intensity of being near him had reminded me it was OK – he wanted me too.
We parted, and he looked at me.
“Sorry, I needed to do that.”
It broke the ice. It wasn't far to the hotel but I felt more at ease, knowing nothing had changed while we'd been apart.
We couldn't get there fast enough. When we arrived we signed in, lugged the cases upstairs, and as soon as the door was closed, he jumped me.
He was so hungry. That first night he'd been so gentle and slow, but this time he was everywhere, his hands all over me like he wanted everything at once. As we kissed, his hands shot to the belt of my jeans. I stood there wrapped up in him, our hands grasping for the parts of each other we'd been longing for over the months.
I reached into his jeans, and grabbed a handful of what I'd longer for these past months. It was like he was bigger than I'd remembered, firmer. I moaned, kneading it in my hand, and needing it inside of me – and fast!
I sighed into his mouth as his fingers found their way inside my underwear, inside me. The pleasure was intense and urgent. He made me gasp with pleasure as he massaged my clit, and I pounded on his stiff length with my fist. And we kissed. My god, did we kiss.
He bent me over the bed, and teased his thumbs around my swollen, sensitive pussy, soaking wet with the attention and the longing leading up to this moment. I reached for my jeans, to grab a condom out of the pocket, but he stopped me.
“Wait.” His voice had taken on the commanding tone I recognised from the phone calls. Looked over my shoulder at him.
“I want to feel myself inside you. Properly. ”
I stared at him for a moment. It was one of the things he'd mentioned in his letters, the idea of coming inside me without a condom. I knew it was risky, and downright stupid with the career plans I had.
