by Sacchi Green
“In a minute.” She placed the dildo on the table and began to unzip her leather trousers, revealing a harness already fitted underneath. And no underwear.
She laughed to herself. “When I picked you up from your place, you hugged me. I was sure you’d feel the outline of the harness, and my plan would have been blown!”
“I didn’t notice a…” I trailed off, transfixed, as I watched Zoe pull off her leather trousers and insert the dildo into the harness, finally jerking the straps tight to hold it in place. The thick cock extended from her crotch at a right angle, and I felt myself overcome with excitement and curiosity. Any apprehension had evaporated and was squarely replaced by a desire to explore.
“So, you wanted to take a look at it?” She approached the bed, the leather straps tight across her smooth brown hips.
She stood in front of me with her legs apart and her hands on her hips. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slid my legs between hers and grabbed her bare arse to pull her closer. I began to touch the dildo, feeling its texture and girth. Her breath came a little faster, and I noticed moisture at the tops of her thighs as she watched me explore the strap-on.
Stroking its length, I looked up at her. “But how did you know what size to get?” I purred.
“You once told me how many fingers you like when you’re really wet. So that’s the girth I chose.” I was impressed by her attention to detail. She continued, “It all started when we first discussed it. You said you wanted to try strap-on sex. I could tell you got kind of horny when you talked about it, so I decided to take the risk. As for aesthetics, you said you’d never have something that looked like a real dick, and I know purple is your favorite color. So you see, I knew exactly what you wanted because you told me. If I wanted to take it further, I’d say that you asked me.”
“You’re cocky, aren’t you?”
“Nope, I just know what I see. I can make a good guess and say that right now you’re sopping wet. Aren’t you?”
I was beginning to feel too challenged, too exposed. I decided it was time to turn the focus to her. Ignoring her questions, I slid my hand up between her legs and teased the leather straps apart. Her wet and swollen pussy enveloped my fingers immediately. “Snap,” I said as she quivered. “You should also know that I like butch bottoms, so you’re not going to get very far if you insist on trying to top me. How about we call a truce, trust each other, and both give this a shot?”
“Okay,” she exclaimed finally, her eyes rolling back as I continued to play at her pussy and make the straps slide repeatedly over her clit. “So long as I get the pleasure first—of giving it to you, that is.”
Zoe pulled me down onto the floor. Filled with anticipation, I parted my legs so that she could get between them, but rather than fuck me she buried her face in my cunt, lapping at me with considerable skill, with that crimp-edged tongue of hers. For a moment, I languished in the heavenly pleasure of it before I writhed away. “No, I don’t want to come this way!” I said. By now, I was completely sold on the idea of that purple dildo and didn’t want to wait a moment more.
“All right, you asked for it,” she said. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
I gazed up at her. “Fuck me,” I said, feeling like a pervert, like a libertine. This was all so new, and things were coming out of my mouth that my politics wouldn’t have previously allowed. “I want you to fuck me, Zoe.”
Zoe didn’t need to be told again. She glided up my body until we were face-to-face. We began to kiss again, deeply, as she slipped the head of the dildo back and forth over my clit, wetting it with my juice. “No need for lube, then,” she whispered. I began to writhe beneath her with utter urgency. She didn’t make me wait. Watching my face, she guided the dildo in slowly until we were pelvis to pelvis. It was a wondrous feeling, but it was also conceptually erotic. Having a woman inside me in this way was so much more than I’d imagined.
“You cool?” she asked, checking in.
“Yeah, I’m cool!” I panted, as I arched my back again to meet her pelvis. Zoe began to strengthen her body somehow, tensing muscles in her thighs and arse. She locked her position using her knees and began to thrust into me with long, sure strokes. There was a sinuous quality to the way her body moved, controlled and rhythmical as she plunged in and out of me. My hips rose to meet her thrusts, and I clawed my nails into the hotel carpet to prevent myself from being fucked across the floor. Moans fell out of my mouth with the panting that came faster and faster now.
Beads of sweat had formed on Zoe’s brow, and her own breath was labored. I could see that she was getting off on this just as much as I was. She began to grunt with each thrust, and her eyes rolled back so that only the bottom half of her irises were visible below her eyelids. Her face kind of screwed up then, and she really gave it to me. It was this force that finally pushed me over the edge. I came while she continued to fuck me, my hips arching again and again. Sighs rose up from my belly and burst out of my mouth as I spasmed beneath her. She stayed on top of me until my orgasm finally slowed to a shudder.
“Come here,” I said, pulling her face toward mine and kissing her soft lips.
“So, I guess I was right, then,” drawled Zoe. “I did have what you wanted upstairs!”
“Actually,” I said, tapping her temple, “I’m totally into what you have upstairs—that’s where the real sexiness comes from.” I began to realize that Zoe had shown me a part of herself that I’d never seen before, one that no talk about sex could have revealed. And what I said, I meant. She was incredibly sexy. “But if you mean the strap-on,” I answered, “then yes, it’s fucking great!”
Now that my orgasm had passed, Zoe withdrew from me slowly and got up. I climbed into the bed, and she handed my drink to me. The now surely exhausted actors continued to fuck on screen, though the lighting had changed to a rosy glow.
Zoe topped up both of our drinks, and then gulped hers down in one go. “Thirsty work!” she said, grinning. As she began to take off the strap-on, I noticed how the still-wet dildo shone in the light. I liked the brazen, in-your-face element of this new toy—there was no mistaking what it was for. Zoe laid it on the table and climbed in beside me, lying on her back and stretching out. I propped myself up on one elbow and looked at her. She really was very beautiful. I’d never noticed what an attractive woman she was. Yet here I was, struck. I began to trace my fingers over her chest ever so lightly, careful not to touch her breasts at first. She sighed a little, and then smiled at me. I began to dance about her nipples with my fingertips, caressing them into hard candies.
“Ahh,” moaned Zoe. Her hand snaked down her body. She buried her fingers in her pussy and began to rub herself while I played with her nipples and brought my lips to hers. She opened her mouth and our tongues met, slipping and sliding. I moved my face to her ear and sucked at her earlobe. “Mmmn, yeah,” mumbled Zoe. I gently grazed her earlobe with my teeth before releasing it and whispering in her ear, “I believe it’s my turn now…or your turn, depending on how you look at it.”
Zoe opened her eyes slowly and looked at me, while continuing to lazily stroke her pussy. “Cock up then,” she said, “and let’s see what you can do. I have a feeling it’ll be your forte.” Without hesitation, I reached for the strap-on, still wet with juice.
SABRA
Lux Zakari
I bet I could change your mind, Mrs. B,” Sabra said with a smile as we stood next to each other on the pavement. She continued to hold open the limo door for me, the gold streetlight making her dark skin seem luminescent. The night’s crisp air turned her breath into clouds.
I stopped scrambling in my purse for her tip and froze, startled. “Change my mind about what?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but my skin prickled anyway.
“Everything.” She purred the words as she urged me back into the limo.
For the past few hours she’d been driving me to my meetings, just as she had the last time I’d been in the city. She’d shown up at my
door with a cocked hip and a crooked, knowing smile, but had remained professional all evening. Despite that, every glance she shot me in the rearview made my heart pound; no one had ever looked at me with such intensity, such want. I was sure she’d gotten a sneaking suspicion of the sudden, inexplicit dampness between my legs by the way I’d nervously cleared my throat and looked down at my hands, clenched in my lap.
Now we were parked across from my hotel on a quiet street, and although her duties were technically considered to be over, she clearly had other things in mind.
Sabra closed the limo door behind her and sat down next to me on the leather seat, still wearing that mysterious smile. She pulled off her black chauffeur’s cap, shaking her braids free. Her fingers went to the giant gold buttons on the front of her uniform and she undid them slowly, watching my face for any reaction. When she opened her top, her naked breasts sprung free, presenting her already stiff nipples.
I sucked in a gulp of air and tried to will my body to stop shaking. This all was certainly different from the last time she’d driven me to my meetings, which had just been a few months ago, when I was still married and spent the majority of the time in her limo arguing with my ex-husband on my cell phone. She’d remained silent, but I’d seen her knowing smirks in the rearview mirror. At any rate, now it looked like she wanted to take me on a different kind of ride.
She pushed me so my back was pressed flush against the leather seat and straddled my body. She didn’t even bother to kiss me as her lips seared the delicate skin of my throat and her hands kneaded my breasts over my wool peacoat. The sensations she was creating in me clouded my head, but I still managed to grab her thin wrists and choke out, “What are you doing?”
“Anything you want,” she said, and added with a grin, “that I want, too.” She finally kissed me, and in that moment I was reminded of smoky bonfires, wild blooming orchids, and pristine white beaches at night. I moaned as her fingers slipped inside my coat to unbutton my silk shirt.
“I know you need this,” she continued. “I can tell.” She pushed my bra upward on my chest, exposing my small breasts, and coaxed my tiny nipples to life. They hardened beneath her touch, and her mouth left mine to travel down to my left breast. Her teeth scraped at the sensitive skin there, and I whimpered, not knowing whether to beg her for more or to beg her to stop.
I’d never been with a woman before, aside from kissing my high school best friend once during a game of spin the bottle. But that had been an attempt to show how sexually liberated we were at the ripe age of fifteen, as well as to seduce a roomful of teenage boys who couldn’t believe their good luck.
This—with Sabra—was significantly different. To Sabra, it seemed like men didn’t exist. At least, that was the impression I’d gotten the last time I saw her. My meeting had ended early, and I’d headed back to the limo only to find her sandwiching a coat-check girl between her body and the vehicle, oblivious to the stunned and intrigued looks that the men passing by were shooting them. It was clear that Sabra didn’t want men, she didn’t need them, and she certainly didn’t feel compelled to seduce them. There was something exciting and free about that. Still, that meant her want for me was genuine, and that frightened me.
“I don’t know about this,” I admitted. Her hand had drifted down to the top button of my pants.
“Why is that?” She smiled, flashing me a row of charming, semicrooked white teeth. She wasn’t taking me seriously—I could tell by the way she undid that top button and went for the second one.
“Because.” My cheeks turned pink with shyness. “Look, I’m not—”
“You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be,” she assured me as she undid the last button and pulled my pants down over my hips and off my legs, revealing my lace thong panties with the butterfly appliqué. “But one thing you are is horny. And no matter what you are or aren’t, you want me. I know that much.”
How did she know? Did it even matter? She was right; more than right, in fact. I was feeling more excited than I ever had toward my ex-husband, a lawyer who had a mind for business and not a clue about a woman’s needs. I had a feeling that Sabra didn’t have his same problems.
“Have you ever eaten pussy before, Mrs. B?” she whispered, her voice thick with amusement and sensuality as she slid off my lap and knelt on the floor of the limo. She lowered her head to dip her tongue inside my belly button.
I swallowed hard. “It’s just Kent now. Rachel Kent. I’m not married anymore.”
“Good to know,” she said, her voice still smiling. Her head moved lower, and her teeth scraped at my inner thighs. A moan of anticipation escaped my lips and intensified as her tongue slid inside the crotch of my panties. “These are very sexy panties, by the way. Too bad we have to get rid of them.”
She dragged the thong off my legs, leaving me wearing only my coat, my unbuttoned shirt, and my bra up around my neck. I was still half-clothed, yet feeling more naked than I ever had in my life. My mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out.
Sabra opened my legs, and the cool air of the car against my hot cunt made my legs shake. Then she bowed her head again and swept her tongue over my pussy. The feeling was so different from when Edward used to go down on me. He had been hesitant and insecure with his tongue—even a little disgusted. Sabra, however, lapped at me with the tongue of a tiger and sucked on my clit as if it were hard candy. I gripped the seat and felt the leather grow wet under my sweating hands as I writhed under her spell.
But she pulled away, her face glistening with my juices. “It’s time you gave it a try, Ms. K.” Her dark eyes laughed at me, but I didn’t care; I wanted her so badly.
“I don’t know how—”
“Follow my lead.” She grabbed my hands and pulled me onto the spacious floor of the limo with her. I tugged off the rest of my clothes and watched as she quickly unbuttoned her pants and kicked them off. Realizing that she’d been naked underneath her uniform all night sent a rush of heat straight to my cunt, but the sight of her naked, shaved mound made my mouth go dry with both fear and want.
“I’ll show you what to do,” she said, clearly recognizing the panic in my eyes. She grinned and reached for me. “Just bring that fine ass of yours over here first.”
She positioned me over her, my thighs hugging her head and her pussy in my face, intoxicating me with its heady scent. I felt her mouth on my clit, so I took a deep breath for courage and mimicked her, flicking my tongue over the sensitive tip of her solid bud. Her moans and trembling legs urged me on and gave me a confidence I had never felt before. I copied her motions and played out what I knew I liked. I made a V with my fingers to spread her outer lips apart, exposing her pulsating clit. I caressed her pussy with my tongue, growing more brave and adventurous with her every whimper. She moaned into my cunt, vibrating my clit and sending tremors all through my body.
Sabra slid a finger into my tight cunt, and I let out a groan, my hands digging into her hips. I followed suit by pushing a finger inside her, and sucked on her throbbing clit as her mouth persisted in fucking me out of my mind. She added another finger in my dripping cunt, causing me to shudder and do the same to her. I could feel myself approaching my climax, but I didn’t want to let up on Sabra now. I swirled my tongue over her clit until I felt her cunt close around my thrusting fingers and her hips buck upward toward my face. Her thighs clamped around my ears, muffling the sound of her screams in the limo.
Seconds later, electricity zipped through my bloodstream and headed straight for my clit. My body trembled and shook, and I rocked up and down as I came, burying her face in my pussy. I waited until I’d stopped shaking before I collapsed onto the floor next to her, whimpering while my cunt continued to twitch with aftershocks.
We lay there in silence, slick with sweat, our bodies used, exhausted, and satisfied. I took a few deep breaths as I waited for my heart rate to return to normal. I wondered how to proceed from here, not just tonight but for the rest of my life.
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“I hate to say this, but I need to get this baby back.” Despite her casual tone, Sabra’s eyes were apologetic and sincere; she wasn’t just trying to get rid of me.
“Of course.” I tried to sound as casual as she did. We got dressed fairly quickly, and she opened the door for me to step out on my wobbly legs.
“I’ll walk you up,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she offered me her arm.
“You don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
“All right,” I said, suddenly feeling shy again. I held on to her elbow as we walked up the steps to the front door. I admired the way she moved, so unashamed and with no regrets. Right then, I wanted her more than ever. I wanted to be her.
We reached the front door, and I snapped open my purse, looking for my wallet. Sabra held up her hand. “No need. It was my pleasure.”
“Oh. All right.” A deep crimson flush spread over my cheeks as I realized the implications of my actions. The tip had been intended for the driving portion of the evening, and she smiled, assuring me that she understood.
“I hope you found everything to your liking, and that you’ll call on Valvani Limousine Service in the future,” she said, spicing up the requisite business script with her enigmatic grin.
“I will,” I promised, and watched her walk down the path back to her limo. As she yanked open the driver’s side door, I blurted out, “Thanks for the ride.”
Sabra gave me a wink and tipped her cap at me. “You know it, Ms. K.” She slid behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb, and I stood on the top step and stared long after the limo had glided down the street and out of sight, well aware that she’d not only changed my mind, but opened it as well.
PERIOD PANTIES
Anna Watson
Dale was a good-looking butch, in a me-big-macho-guy kind of way. Not a whiff of lesbian about her, just 100 percent prime male meat with a bossy attitude and a rigid view of exactly who wears the pants—which is fine if you like that kind of thing, and god help me, I do. There’s something about that smug, god’sgift-to-femmes ’tude that speaks to me where it counts.
