Quickies: A Collection of Short Fantasies

by Abigail Grey

  Her position had her in the perfect spot as he tilted his hips forward to split her wet lips with his hard cock. The warm clutch of her cunt dragged a groan from his lips.

  She heard the noise and felt pleasure blossom in her chest. As he sank slowly in, she was patient, waiting until he was buried deep inside her before she rolled her hips against him, moving her pussy on his dick.

  His fingers dug into her hips and he pulled her away from him before impaling her body back on his already slippery-with-her-juices cock. The rhythm was set by him, slamming into her quickly and drawing out with a torturously slow tempo.

  She began to squirm, trying to buck her hips in her own staccato-quick form, but he held tight to her hips. She succeeded once in drawing him out quickly and back in, and was rewarded for the breach with a sharp smack to the side of her hip. She shook then, allowing him to dictate the motion as she trembled with barely hidden need.

  Soon his thrusts began to pick up speed. He moved his hands to her thighs and pushed her knees off the bed, enjoying the soft grunt from her as her stomach hit the bed before he followed her down, pinning the length of her body down with his own. He felt her hands curl into fists to protect his vulnerable skin before she managed to cross her wrists and move her hands to the sides of his stomach. Her felt her nails then, gently raking on his skin before digging in slightly with the new angle of his insistent fucking.

  The sharp pain caused his breath to hiss between his teeth as he ground them together in exertion. He pulled out and away from her, grabbing her by the hair to pull her forcefully to the floor. He tore at the buckle for the gag while she struggled to get to her knees. He heard the gentle sucking sound of the large ball coming free of her parted lips and simply released his grip on the straps, hearing the drool-wet smack on her thigh that told him it was out of her mouth. Without regard to her position and balance, he lifted her head and pushed his cock through her lips, pistoning in and out of her mouth. He felt her convulse once as he pushed to the back of her throat, but he continued. His hands lifted her hair away from her face and he looked down to see his dick sliding between the plump, moist lips. He shook taking in the sight of her eyes closed, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, her nostrils flaring with each breath she dragged into her lips, and her cheeks indenting as she began to apply suction to the head and shaft of him.

  With a quiet growl he pushed her away. She lost her balance, falling to her side. Gasping in deep breaths, she looked up at him in confusion before realizing his hand had taken the place of her mouth. She watched as he pumped twice and his cock pulsed. She closed her eyes quickly and felt the hot splash as three jets of his cum shot down onto her, lining her cheek, shoulder, and the side of her torso and hip. She felt him kneel and wipe his hand in her hair. Slowly she opened her eyes to look at him.

  “That, slut”, he began, drawing breath with concentrated effort. “Was for teasing.” A smile slowly spread across his lips as she whimpered.

  Poker Night

  I walked through the front door, quickly closing it against the bitter wind of the winter night. I dropped my keys and coat near the door and hear the click of my shoes against the floor. A sudden silence came from the next room and I could hear fervent whispers from multiple voices. I adjusted the tight vest-style top I wore over my jeans and stiletto heels. I walked into the main room, leaning casually against the door jamb.

  Slowly I lifted my eyes to the table in the middle of the room. Chairs creaked as their occupants turned. I could feel their eyes raking from the curled tousle of my hair, my collar style necklace, my blatantly revealed cleavage and the curve of my hips and thighs. I sauntered forward, smiling at each of the five men who stared without reserve. I put my hands on the edge of the table closest to me and leaned across it to where you sat. I puckered my lips for a quick kiss as I practically lie on top of the table.

  You leaned forward slightly, kissing me quickly before I stood back up. Looking around the table, I noted a few empty beers. Gathering the bottles, I smiled sweetly. “So, fellas, who needs a refill?”

  Slowly, hands went up around the table. I took note of them and, with a wink to you, I left the room to retrieve the cold beers from the refrigerator. As soon as I rounded the corner, I once again heard the whispered questions firing away at you. I smiled again, quickly getting and opening the beers.

  I returned to the room, once again inspiring a deafening silence. After passing the beers around, I moved to stand behind you. I slid my hands down your chest and rested my chin on your shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw the man sitting next to you lean back slightly in his chair. I smirked, knowing what he could see.

  My black high heeled sandals revealed a hint of red nail polish. My feet were spread to a shoulder-width stance. My knees stayed straight as I was bent at the waist, leaving my denim-covered ass arched out. I heard a quiet hiss of breath from your other side and with another secretive smile I slowly rocked my hips from side to side.

  The men on each side of you folded their hands.

  One of the men finished his beer. Before he was able to set it down, I reached around him, taking it from his hand. He turned, his face inches from the near spill of my cleavage. His eyes widened and I asked him quietly, “Would you like another?”

  His mouth opened and closed before he nodded. I smiled and quickly went to get another for him. When I returned, two of the other men had empty bottles on the table. I saw a calculating look pass between them. I rounded the table to the point furthest from them and reached. I laid my body over the community cards and the chips, my arms outstretched to grab the empty bottles and my back arched so that the three men facing me got a full look down my shirt. I stood, walking back around to take care of the empties and fetch more for the two. As I passed you, you reached back and slapped a hand across my ass.

  Surprised, I looked over my shoulder at you. With a surreptitious wink, you said, “Quit teasing.”

  My bottom lip poked out in a pretty pout, but I strode out to get the beers for your friends.

  On the next hand, I moved beside you again. The guy on your left lost the last of his chips early in the hand and a sudden idea struck me. I turned and quickly sat my ass directly into his lap. I squirmed once to get comfortable.

  You looked over with a smile. “Little girl, what are you doing?”

  With an innocent shrug I replied, “I just needed somewhere to sit. And you said to quit teasing, so I’ll just sit very still.” Leaning back across his chest I whispered a query up to his ear. “If that’s okay with you?”

  I felt him nod and felt his arm tense behind me. I squirmed again, leaning my elbows forward on the table. I hid a smile behind my hand as I felt his next reaction.

  The others stared. My eyes met theirs briefly as they began to pay less attention to their cards. I got up to get more beers.

  When I returned you pulled me on to your lap. Out of the current hand, you pulled me back so my ear was near your lips.

  “Now with me it isn’t teasing. Do your worst.”

  Your hands slid down to my wrists, pulling them forward to grip the edge of the table. My eyes flickered closed for a moment before I rolled my hips against yours. I tried to move my hands, but your grip on me kept them where they were. Biting down on my lower lip, I kicked my leg over to straddle your lap. The motion pressed the crotch of my jeans against you, letting you feel the warmth and gentle pulsing of my pussy through the material. I once again rocked my hips against yours, this time feeling the familiar hardness pressing against me.

  A low moan bubbled from my throat, parting my lips as I breathe out the sultry sound. I hear the gentle click of chips hitting each other as I squirm again. My eyes open slowly and I see the others staring. I try to pull at my wrists again, but you won’t release them. I slowly move my hips in a circle, repeating it faster and faster and allowing my whimpers and moans to reverberate in the room. I feel the eyes on us and I tip my head back letting a primal, shuddering gr
oan rip from me.

  I suddenly find my arms stretched above my head and my back once again pressed to you. Slowly you urge me to stand and turn. With one hand still around a wrist, you look into my eyes.

  “Bed”, you command audibly. With a small smile and nod, I quickly turn and leave the room

  Sex Long-Distance

  "How is my little slut now?" The smooth voice felt like it was caressing down my body.

  "Doing good", I reply steadily with the hint of a smile on my face.

  "Just good?" He sounded amused before his voice snapped into sharper tones. "Where's your hand?"

  I gasped quietly and paused before almost whispering, "On the pillow."

  "On the pillow? I think you need it to be somewhere else, don't you?"

  "Yes", I breathed, my hand slowly creeping down my body.

  "Run your finger just on the outside of your slit. Don't put it in yet." I whimpered slightly, but did as he told me. I could feel myself getting slightly more wet. "Okay, one finger, push it in and pull it out quickly." My eyes closed with the feeling of my finger pressing inside my wet pussy and I whimpered as I withdrew it. "Oh, that was mean wasn't it?" he chuckled.

  "Mm-hmm", I responded, my mind already clouding with an incoherent haze.

  Quickly that strong voice had two of my fingers working in my pussy. I was moaning and twitching to the rhythm he had set. He broke into a long low moan and said, "You know what you haven't done for me yet tonight. Slap your ass. Twice. Now."

  I whimpered and rolled to the side, catching two full-handed smacks on my ass.

  "Oh, those were good ones, my little whore. Now, where do your fingers want to go?"

  My mind raced, circled and centered on two possibilities... which was he thinking of? I whimpered in slight frustration.

  "Your ass? You need them in your ass, don't you?" I heard that dark chuckle again in his question. I squealed. Not whimpered, not moaned, but squealed. "Oh, does my little bitch like that idea?"

  I twitched and gasped, knowing he remembered that game. Slowly I stammered out a quiet "woof".

  He laughed again and directed me. "Put them in then." I pressed one finger in, thinking how long it had been since I'd had anything there. I moaned and his voice penetrated my mind again. "How many did you do?"

  "J-j-just one." I slid the finger in and out, my eyes squeezed tightly closed.

  "Oh, you can do better than that. A fuckslut like you should be able to get two."

  I squealed again and started to push a second alongside. His voice kept up in my ear as I felt the finger slowly stretch me. "Come on, you little ass-whore. Fuck those fingers just like you would if they were in your cunt." After my keening cry in response, he asked, "Do you think you can do three?"

  My breath came to me in pants as I sort of babbled, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..."

  "Do it, bitch. Do it now."

  I almost forgot, but on the gasp with the first stretch of the third finger I let out a breathy "woof". I heard him groan.

  For a minute or so, he just listened to me as I moved those three fingers in me. Then he kept talking, fueling me more as he asked me questions about my fingers, my ass, and what I wanted... no, what I needed. I knew I was close.

  He told me to go back to my pussy, using three fingers this time. It escalated quickly until he asked me, "What do you need, slut?"

  "I need to cum."

  "When?"

  "Soon."

  "No, slut, now! Go harder. Go faster." He kept talking as I kept building up harder and harder, closer and closer. I got to the point I always get to, where I just can't go any farther and I seem to block off, but he kept pushing. "What do you need? What do you want?"

  "I want to cum... please."

  "Then do it, whore. Just cum. Just do it. Come on, just cum!"

  I was shaking, trembling all over, listening to the things he was saying. I felt myself rise and ebb over and over. I felt the feeling rise to the peak once again when I heard:

  "Cum for me now, bitch."

  It happened. The timing was right for it and the way he said it... I could hardly believe it. I missed him so much.

  The Fighter

  He looked up at the clock. It was getting to be that time on this sweltering afternoon. A drop of sweat tickled his temple and impatiently he swept his hand through the close-cropped hair on his head. He used the pencil in his hand to, once again, trace over the pitted words someone had carved in the desk long ago. The fans scattered around the large room droned lazily in the periphery. The occasional clank or thud sounded in the near silence, accompanied by grunts and the squeak of tennis shoes.

  Jake hated these days. His workout already in, he still had to sit at this desk and check the other members in and out. He was a glorified babysitter for the meatheads who came in to free lift. The hours crawled by while he waited for the kids to come in for their boxing and martial arts classes. The tired old gym seemed to perk up then, filled with the shouts and laughter of kids who finally had a place to go after school.

  But until then, here he sat. He had considered changing the hours a few weeks ago, not opening until later. That was the first day he saw her.

  A woman in the gym was a rarity. This woman in the gym seemed like an impossibility. She had paid for a membership on a hardly-used, pristine credit card. She was slim, but the softness around her limbs indicated that this type of gym was not her usual haunt. The sunglasses that took up half her face made her look vaguely bug-like. Her left hand glinted with a rock more suited to the window at Tiffany's than the cement walls of this dump. He had smirked at her that first day, expecting her to turn up her nose at the lack of elliptical machines and aerobic steps.

  But she had walked in the gym at the same time every afternoon since that day two weeks ago. He found his eyes drawn to her in the monotony of the humid days that had passed. He had her routine cataloged; she would walk in, clearly coming directly from her professional walk of life in power heels and office attire. Her duffel bag would hang at her side as she signed in and retreated to the locker room. A few minutes later she would emerge in a tank top and leggings, her feet encased in soft shoes. She would be wrapping her hands in tape as she walked, and she would take a place at one of the heavy hanging bags near the regulation ring in the far end of the large open room. Then she would start swinging.

  Other gym members approached her for the first few days. They saw the small frame and would puff out their chests when speaking to her. Jake could never hear the exchanges, but could see her responding. They never stayed long, though, leading him to believe that she turned down any offer of companionship, platonic or otherwise. She would circle the bag, nearly hidden from view of the rest of the gym, but he could sometimes pick out the slap of her fists and feet against the leather and canvas.

  The door opened, blinding him with the reflection of the summer sun on the metal. The loud clang echoed through the warehouse-like room. She walked toward him, those sunglasses once again covering her face. She nodded to him, silent, as her slim fingers gripped the pen to sign her name in for the day. His eyes raked over her today, taking an inventory of today's power suit, in black, paired with stiletto heels that tapered to a sharp toe. The entire look made a man want to wince and cover his balls; this was a woman who would go for blood. She turned away, shifting her duffel bag to her left hand. Jake's sharp eyes caught and held on her bare finger before she disappeared into the locker room.

  She emerged, wrapping her hands as usual. Her spot was clear, the regulars having learned where she would gravitate. She stretched, pulling her arms across her body and hugging each knee to her chest, before she took position.

  Jake evaluated her stance. As usual, she held a good frame, her forearms up to block her torso and face. She threw straight, she held her hand correctly, she perched on the balls of her feet. She moved smoothly, gliding side to side around the stationary opponent. He watched her jab and cross, occasionally pivoting to deliver a k
ick that seems to have hit higher and higher with her routine workouts.

  One of his regulars approached to sign out for the day. He stopped to watch the woman. Shaking his head, he turned to Jake. "Woman like that'll get any guy in trouble, huh, Jakey?"

  Jake chuckled. Maxwell was old school, a throwback to Rocky-era gym rats. Easily thirty years older than the female in question, Maxwell didn't seem to shy away from speaking his mind. After placing his bold scrawl on the form, Maxwell leaned over the counter toward Jake. "Almost makes you want to try it out, doesn't it, kid? See if she hits as hard as she does fast?" His grin, half-toothless, spoke volumes about the intention behind his tongue-in-cheek question.

  "Nah", Jake replied. He smiled slightly at the thought, though. He had considered it, when the rest of his friendly gym rats had tried engaging her interest. With every rebuke they received, though, his resolve slipped until he remained behind the counter and simply watched.

  Maxwell reached across and slapped him on the shoulder, comrades in the brotherhood of men. Jake waved him off and resumed his perch, the pencil still tracing the grooves and pockmarks in the desk as he watched her. Other members came in and out, disrupting his view.