by Selena Kitt
“Suck.” He pulled his shirt tails back to expose his hard cock. She chewed the rest of the peach flesh, swallowing before taking him between her lips. Her mouth was cool and sticky from the fruit as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft. Rick watched, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Bite.” He offered her the peach again, and she took her mouth off him to take a large bite, juice flowing down her chin this time, running in rivulets between her breasts. She chewed happily, her eyes on him, flickering from his face to his cock. Her hands, crossed over her belly, longed to slide further down. She could feel the heat of her pussy, growing wet and swollen between her legs.
Her face was full of juice now, and he watched her swallow the peach flesh and lick her lips before saying, “Suck,” again. She obeyed, leaning in to take his cock between her sticky lips. He tasted like peaches now, and she moaned around him as she tried to take it all, working her head up and down his shaft.
“Yeah,” he murmured, the hand not holding the peach going to her hair, pulling her in tight. She heard him groan when she opened her throat to take nearly all of his shaft, much more than she’d ever gotten into her mouth before. He pulled her head back slowly, looking down at her open mouth and eyes looking up at him as if she could devour him. That was just how she felt.
He took a bite of the peach in his hand, making an “mmm” sound as he chewed. She watched him, waiting.
“Almost as good as your little peach.” He grinned as he took another bite, making that same “mmm” sound. “Here. Bite.”
She sank her teeth in, once, twice, digging deep through the fuzzy surface to the slippery, succulent fruit underneath. Her face and chin and chest were soaked in peach juice. She watched Rick finish the last of the peach flesh.
“Come here.” He helped her stand. Turning her with his body, he pushed her so she was lying on her back on the bed. “Arms over your head.”
She did as she was told, feeling vulnerable and a little scared as she watched him standing above her, unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes never left hers, and she had never felt so naked, or so seen by him. It made her want to squirm and she willed herself to stay still.
“Now, you’re going to learn how to tell me what you want.” He put one knee between her legs on the bed. She felt the breath leave her body, and for a moment couldn’t find it again. “And you’re going to do it with just your body movement and sounds. No words.”
She stared at him, feeling helpless. She had discovered today in a short period of time that she could follow his lead, but what he was asking now felt impossible. Sex was often the one place she just couldn’t say what she wanted, and he knew it.
“Make a ‘yes’ sound.” He stroked her inner thigh gently with his hand in the way he knew she loved. Laura moaned, making a sound in her throat that sounded a like “mmmm.”
“Good.” He reached up toward her breast. “Now make a ‘no’ sound.” He squeezed and twisted her nipple hard and she squealed, a pained “nuh-uh” coming from her throat.
The look in her eyes was hurt, as if he had betrayed her. He whispered a “shhh,” stroking her breast now, petting her, calming her.
“That was perfect.” He thumbed her nipples. She gave a low moan, arching her back. He smiled. “You’re perfect.”
He knelt on the pillow, grabbed her legs and pulled her so that her feet were dangling off the edge. His breath was warm on her thighs and his hands pressed her legs open wide, fully exposing her.
“Now this is a ripe little peach,” he breathed. She had a bikini wax just before they left, thinking she would use the retreat pool, if not go swimming in the ocean; her skin was still completely smooth. He feathered kisses on her inner thighs, moving upward from each knee, back and forth.
“Do you want my tongue?” he asked, when he had reached her mound, kissing the silky skin there, too. “Make a yes sound.”
She wiggled and whimpered, finally moaning and made the “mmmm” sound in her throat. He rewarded her with his tongue, slipping it between her bare lips and finding her clit. She made the sound again, rolling her hips slightly as he licked her, moving his tongue slowly back and forth.
“More?” His breath was hot over her pussy. She made the sound in her throat, pushing her hips up toward his mouth. His tongue found her again, teasing the swollen bud between her lips, making light, barely-there strokes with the tip of his tongue. He slowly increased the pressure, making her moan and respond with several “mmmm’s!” in a row.
He slipped a finger through her wetness, sliding it slowly into her. She spread her legs wider, moaning as moved his finger in and out, his tongue making wet circles over her mound. He slid another finger in, and she again gave him the “yes” sound, her hands gripping the covers above her head.
Pumping two fingers in her now, he covered her whole pussy with his mouth, making his tongue flat and sweeping over her clit, back and forth. She groaned, her hips moving back against him as he fingered her. When he edged a third finger into her, she gasped, making the “Nuh-uh!” sound; her legs closed slightly.
“Too much?” he murmured, slipping it back out and twisted two fingers inside of her. “What about this?” He followed her slit down to her pink, puckered asshole and rubbed a wet finger there.
“Nuh-uh!” She jumped so much that his fingers slipped out of her pussy.
Rick moved up next to her on the bed, stretching out and tracing a lazy, wet finger around her nipple. She made the “yes” noise, her eyes half-closing. He traced the other nipple, making her moan, her hips wiggling in response.
“Taste.” He put his fingers, still wet with her juices, up to her mouth.
“Nuh-uh,” she said, her eyes wide. She shook her head for emphasis.
“Yes.” He rubbed her juices over her lips like gloss, making them shine. “Suck.”
She sighed, opening her mouth and letting him slide his fingers in. Surprised by the taste, she sucked on his fingers, her eyes on his. He was watching them go in and out of her mouth.
“Do you like how you taste?” He rubbed his fingers over her now-eager tongue.
“Mmmm!” she responded, licking between his fingers, too.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He used his wet fingers to rub her nipples again. She groaned, spreading her thighs for him, and he smiled. “Not like that. Roll over.”
Laura moved, a little awkward, rolling to her belly on the bed. She felt his hand move over her back, up over the curve of her ass, and dip between her thighs. His fingers probed there, opening her lips, slipping inside.
“Mmmmmmm.” She arched her back, raising her bottom even higher in the air, letting him slide his fingers in a little deeper. They weren’t anywhere near enough now—she wanted his cock. Her whole body was aching with the need to be filled.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked. She met his eyes, swallowing hard. Why was it so hard to say yes? It was exactly what she wanted… and yet her throat didn’t seem to want to work. “Tell me, Laura. Show me.”
She went up to her elbows, the tie around her wrists making it impossible for her to get fully up on her hands and knees. Making a deep, “mmmmmmm” sound, she spread her thighs for him, rocking her hips and tilting her bottom up in the air.
“Good girl.” He stroked her ass with his hand as he slid behind her, positioning himself on the bed. She felt the head of his cock slipping between her wet lips, easing into her pussy by degrees. His hands gripped her hips, making it a slow, steady thing.
He stopped when he was about halfway into her and began to make slow, half-strokes. She wiggled back against him but his hands on her hips prevented her from getting her way. He continued to fuck her like that, only giving her half of his length, while she wiggled and squirmed beneath him, wanting more.
“Do you want more?” He teased her with a little bit more length.
“Mmmm!” She moaned, nodding against the bedspread as she dangled her head between her bound wrists. Pressing back against him, her hi
ps rocked in his hands, begging him for more. He gave it to her, slipping his cock further between her smooth, swollen lips, driving as deep as he could go.
“Ahhh!” She squeezed all of her muscles around the length of him. Her pussy was throbbing for release, and the feel of him filling her was delicious. She rocked back on his cock, but he held her tight, his fingers gripping her hipbones like handles, using them to pull her back into the saddle of his hips.
She moaned and twisted in his hands, her pussy aching for release. Her clit was humming with her lust, begging to be touched. She didn’t know how to tell him what she wanted without words and she whimpered her frustration, trying to arch against him, feeling the weight of his balls against her mound. There just wasn’t quite enough friction to take her over, and she buried her flushed face into her arms, almost sobbing in her dilemma.
He was making little grunting noises as he fucked her, his cock sliding between her legs. The sound filled the room, a rhythmic slapping of heated flesh, and she knew that his easing off, his deeper breaths, meant that he was getting close and trying to hold off for her. She gripped the covers in her hands, twisting and pulling at them.
Then—oh, thank god! She felt his fingers sliding underneath her, searching through her wetness for her pulsing, aching center, and she sighed in grateful relief, moving a little to help him. There… right there… his fingers moving back and forth over her clit.
“Mmmmmm!” She moaned, squeezing his cock hard, making him gasp and thrust deep into her pussy. She made the noise again, a constant hum now in her throat, her breath coming faster as he fucked her, the motion of his fingers creating the perfect amount of friction to send her over the edge.
“Oooooooohhh!” She shuddered underneath him as she came, the quick spasms of her pussy making him groan and grab at her, driving in so deep that he collapsed her onto the bed as he came, filling her convulsing wet channel with his cum. His cock erupted with sudden, violent force, surging white heat deep inside of her.
“God,” he gasped as he rolled off her onto the bed, throwing his arm over his forehead and staring at the ceiling.
Laura pressed her flushed, hot cheek against the covers, searching for a cool spot. She looked at him through half-closed eyes, feeling the thick heat of his cum beginning to slip out of her, as if there were too much for her to contain. Watching his breath returning to normal, she found herself wanting him, to be next to him, to keep him with her.
As if he sensed her desire, he turned toward her, reaching for her hands. He slowly worked the knots out of his tie, freeing her wrists. Rubbing them, she met his eyes, seeing something there that she didn’t quite recognize.
“Come here, Wilma.” He held his arms out to her. She went to him, nestling her cheek against him, feeling something swelling in her chest. It almost felt like she was about to cry, but she wasn’t sad. She wasn’t sad at all.
“Fred needs a nap,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She laughed, a bright sound, as she closed her eyes, listening to him breathe as they both drifted off.
* * * *
“She’ll have the egg white omelet, no onion, a small orange juice, and a side of fruit,” Rick smiled up at the waitress. He glanced over at Laura, who was resting her chin in her hand and looking dreamily over the railing at the clear water below. She lifted her face to the breeze, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a moment.
“Do you want coffee, baby?”
“Nuh-uh.” She opened her eyes to him with a bright smile.
“Did you want water with lemon?” the waitress asked him. It was the same blonde girl from yesterday, wearing yellow today, a sarong and matching top.
“Sure, thanks,” he said, his eyes on his wife. The girl took their menus and left. Rick slid his hand across the table and he took Laura’s hand.
“How’d you like to go for a walk on the beach after breakfast?” He turned her hand over and traced the lines on her palm. “I think we’ve got time before we’ve gotta be back in Bedrock.”
“Mmmm,” she said with a little laugh at his Flintstone reference.
“Are you cold?” His eyes moving over her outfit—red bikini top and red flowered sarong. She looked like the girls down on the beach.
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, squeezing his hand and feeling flushed as she remembered his hands on her last night, the things he did when he touched her…
“You’re beautiful.” He squeezed her back.
She just smiled, turning her eyes back out to the beach that they were going to be strolling along after a leisurely breakfast. She couldn’t believe the difference twenty-four hours had made.
* * * *
“So, what kind of difference did twenty-four hours make?” Gazoo asked, holding the microphone out toward them.
“It was amazing.” Rick took it without hesitation. “It took us… me… a little while to get the hang of it. After I made her apologize yesterday at dinner…”
The audience around them started clapping and cheering again at that. Laura flushed, but she was smiling.
“We had some practice in our room that went… pretty well, I think.”
Gazoo looked at Laura. “Did he take care of you?”
She nodded.
“Did he let you go hungry, or walk in front of a bus?”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Do you trust him to make a solid decision with your best interests at heart?”
Laura felt tears coming to her eyes. She looked over at Rick, and he saw the expression on her face as she nodded and put her hand in his. He looked like he felt ten feet tall.
Gazoo was nodding at them, looking satisfied. “I think that look said it all. Sounds like your practice was a success. Give them a hand, folks. It isn’t an easy exercise.”
The sound of applause made Laura flush again as The Great Gazoo moved on to another couple who had undertaken a practice yesterday.
Laura leaned in and whispered in Rick’s ear, “So, Fred… do you still think he’s an asshole?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. He turned his mouth to her ear and whispered, “No, Wilma. He’s no dumb-dumb.”
About Selena Kitt
Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that make her purr-and wants nothing more than to make others purr right along with her! Pleasure is her middle name, whether it’s a short cat nap stretched out in the sun or a long kitty bath. She makes it a priority to explore all the delightful distractions she can find, and follow her vivid and often racy imagination wherever it wants to lead her.
This sassy, outrageous author lives with her husband and children in the Midwest, all of whom she thinks are the cat’s meow. Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (www.excessica.com) and in her spare time, she worships her devoted husband, corrals four kids and a dozen chickens, all while growing an organic garden. She also loves bellydancing and photography.
Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of “exceptional literary quality,” out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read “blind” (without author’s name available.) She was also a top ten author finisher in the 2006 Preditors and Editors Poll. Her book, EcoErotica was a 2009 EPIC AWARD FINALIST and The Real Mother Goose was a 2010 EPIC AWARD FINALIST.
Pony Play
By J.M. Snyder
I first met Sean when we were both freshmen in college, eight years ago, but why we’re still friends is beyond me. He’s everything I’m not—skinny, for starters, with a lingering gawkiness that reminds me of Dungeons & Dragons. Maybe his love of RPGs is part of the reason he joined a local bondage group. I’m not into whips and cha
ins and leather, God knows. I like my sex of the vanilla variety—no dress-up role-play for me. Standing against the wall and taking it from behind are as kinky as I want to get.
So it surprised me when Sean called me one evening, all excited about a weekend affair his bondage group was putting on. More surprising still, he wanted me to go, too. “I’m not into that crap,” I told him. I almost felt offended that he’d asked.
But he laughed and said, “How do you know, Drew? You can’t say for certain until you’ve tried it.”
“Oh, hell no,” I replied. “The thought of someone ordering me around to do degrading shit like lick their toes pisses me off. No way I’m doing that.”
Sean assured me, “It’s so not like that. See? You’ve got the wrong idea about the whole thing. It’s not even a slave weekend. It’s pony play. You’ll love it.”
“I’m not into horses,” I told him.
“You don’t have to be,” he insisted. “Pony play is a form of S&M—”
“Stop right there,” I said. “That’s all I need to hear to know I’m not interested.”
“Come on,” he begged. “Listen to me before you say ‘No.’ Basically, all you do is dress up like a pony, okay? That’s it.”
Skeptical, I asked, “And do what?”
“Whatever your master says.”
That’s the part I had a problem with. “Look, Sean,” I began, “thanks for thinking of me, really, but I can think of better things to spend my weekend doing than carrying some fat lard-ass around on my hands and knees just because he has a riding crop in his hand.”
Sean persisted. “Let me tell you, Drew, some major studs are into pony play. Believe me. Guys who are into cowboys and sports. Guys like you. And you know there’s going to be sex. There has to be.”
That got my attention. I didn’t have a steady boyfriend, didn’t even know how to go about finding one, and couldn’t clearly remember the last time I got laid. “You sure there’ll be guys my type there?” I asked. Maybe I could at least try it.
