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At nine o’clock there was a knock on my door. I froze in mid sip, taking one breath that felt an hour long.
“Come in.”
The steadiness of my voice surprised me. But who else would it be, and what else would I say? Abby walked into my room.
“Bastard. Idiot.” True, stinging words. God, she was angry. And fuck, she was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“Yes.”
“Why’d you do this?” The door wasn’t closed. She held the handle, as if she might step out and leave any second. I didn’t doubt she would.
“I…couldn’t not.” I knew that was true as I said it. “Why did you come?”
“I couldn’t not. And you knew it.”
Had I? Part of me fought that truth tooth and nail. I’d thought of a thousand things to say at this moment and couldn’t remember any of them. I took a deep breath.
“Abby, I want to get up off this bed, grab you and fuck you against the door.” I watched her eyes and breathing as I spoke. “Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to do that. But…I’m…not. And I won’t. Everything I want—everything in the world—is standing in my door right now. And here I sit.” How was my voice not breaking?
Abby looked at me, her knuckles white on the door handle. We’d known each other almost two years now. A lot could pass unsaid.
“Your note said ‘watch me.’”
“Yes.”
“‘That’s all.’”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen you already. Not three months ago.”
“Over the computer. Not the same. You know it.”
“Okay.”
She was blank now. I couldn’t read her. I guessed she was still angry. I honestly didn’t know if she was in the same state I was; a hair’s breadth away from jumping on me and spiraling into—
The door clicked closed behind her, and she walked over to the stuffed chair facing the bed. She took off her jacket and laid it over the chair back. Her black skirt went below her knees and didn’t ride up much as she sat down.
No preambles, no hesitations. I got up from the bed, not ten feet from her, and undressed. No striptease, no frantic disrobing; I just took off my clothes. The only difference was she was in the room, and I wanted her so bad I could taste it. Ten feet—the mere existence of that measly space was an affront. An almost visible current of desire cut through it. I saw it in Abby, too. Though now, I’d have made myself see it to save my own sanity. I couldn’t trust myself to do anything except what I’d promised. Here was where I could make all my previous mistakes look like nothing at all.
I was as hard as a rock. My cock pointed straight at the object of my desire, and I felt if I closed my eyes and looked away, I’d find myself buried in Abby before I knew what was happening. So I didn’t close my eyes; I didn’t look away.
I pulled the top sheet off the bed, and climbed on, on both knees. I took my cock in my hand and squeezed it, watching Abby’s watching eyes. Her intent gaze moved from my cock to my face, and back. She licked her lips. I started stroking myself.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for almost two years, Abby. A thousand different ways. Easy, hard, gentle, brutal. I want to bite you, bruise you, come in you and on you. You know.”
Abby nodded, watching me, breathing.
“I’ve come to your voice, your words, your image. And…I could have you now. I could take you. You couldn’t stop me if you tried. And, at some point I know—you know—you’d stop trying and it’d all be over. Everything would be over.” My voice was rough with tension and truth. Every word was true. I could. It would be so damn easy. I wanted it so bad. I jacked myself fast and hard, as savagely as I wanted to fuck her. It probably looked…I don’t know, I’d never watched myself jack off. Abby watched me, the neutrality of her face fading into the intensity, the hunger I’d sometimes seen over video. It made my blood boil.
“I…want…” But I couldn’t talk anymore. I squinted my eyes but dared not close them. My back arched, hips fucking the air. Abby’s eyes watched my hand, my cock and then met mine. I froze, gripping, white-knuckled, as the thing inside me shook loose.
I came. Grunting, spurting on the hotel bedsheets, overshooting onto the floor. The physical pleasure was intense, but being there, right there, was like nothing else—satisfaction mixed with howling need. My come arced over half the distance between us. My eyes never left Abby’s face, though hers roamed all over me—the only part of her that moved. It was searing.
I breathed again, panted rather, settling back onto my heels, and let go of my softening cock. I couldn’t help smiling, sweaty, drained, wired. This was still a dangerous place for us. Possibly even more dangerous now, because my control was just about gone—all I had going for me was the fact that I was temporarily spent.
When I thought I could speak again. I said, “I’m going to get dressed and go down to the hotel bar. I’m going to stay there half an hour. I’d…like to have a drink with you, or dessert, or something. We can talk. I hope you’ll find me there.”
I finally looked away from her, cleaned myself with a corner of the sheet, and hastily, awkwardly got dressed. I had to get out quickly, before either of us could say or do anything else. Half an hour would be enough for her to do many things, including leave without my seeing. I looked at the clock: 9:24. How fast the world can change.
I stepped around the bed as I buttoned my shirt, coming within two feet of Abby, still sitting and watching me. I…wanted. I walked past, to the door and out.
I sit at the bar, look at my watch: 9:47. Sip my wine. Close my eyes
and don’t think. There’s time to think tomorrow.
Friends in Need
By Saskia Walker
Silently, breathlessly, I braced myself for the sting.
The flat of Reid’s hand made contact with my right buttock.
Even through my skirt, the slap ripped right through me, flooding my groin with sensation. With desperate fingers I grasped at the edge of the footstool I was bent over, my knees shuffling against the carpet.
“I told you she’d like it.” Reid’s amused declaration made it hard for me to deny it.
I’d laughed this off just minutes before, but it was true—I was turned on by being spanked. Reid had delivered just a few slaps to my unsuspecting rear end, and the heat between my thighs had increased rapidly. The experience was sending me into the most extreme case of arousal because each slap created a vibrant echo at my center—an aching need for relief.
I glanced up at Dominic.
My darling lover sprawled in his chair. His expression was brooding, aroused.
The situation had been stimulated by a throwaway comment from Reid, our old college friend, after dinner and drinks—a comment about women and spanking. We often talked about sex and sexuality, but we were in different territory. There was playful flirting—which we three had always done—and there was going past previous personal boundaries.
“Okay,” I acknowledged, glancing back over my shoulder. “You’re right, it’s a turn-on.”
“Don’t stop.” Dominic interrupted. His command was total.
His familiar, sardonic smile took my breath away, and the fact that he wanted Reid to continue affected me deeply. I was barely able to stop myself rolling onto the floor and touching myself. I was in such a state I wanted to masturbate right there in front of both of them. The rock music that pumped around the room from the speakers seemed to fade away even though it still played on, the atmosphere condensing into the capsule of this moment.
“You’re sure?” I looked up at him, adoring him, wanting him so badly.
“We have to prove Reid’s theory, right?” He didn’t once break eye contact with me, watching me with possessive eyes, controlling the situation even though he didn’t move.
Doubt made me restless, yet I couldn’t deny it. My short skirt had ridden up, and when Reid spanked me again I could feel the sting right across the tops of my thighs—and between them, where my bottom was pushed up and back to meet his touch—where my pussy was eager for everything on offer. Each swift, vital connection with the flat of his hand bit into me in the most delicious way. I was walking the line between pleasure and pain, and my pussy was throbbing and heavy with need as a result.
Dominic sipped from his wineglass, slowly, and then nodded my way. “I’m curious. Tell us, what is that doing to you?”
“Turning me on,” I managed to respond, hips swaying as I did so.
“Good.” He put his wineglass down. “Reid, why don’t you pull her skirt up, really let her feel it.”
Reid pushed the skirt up until it was bunched at my waist.
My face burned. I was wearing the slightest of G-strings, and not only was my bottom on fire—I could also feel the dampness of my crotch. When Reid looked down there and spanked me again, he would be able to see it all.
Dominic was miles ahead of me. “Is she wet? I bet she is.”
My hands covered my face. “Oh, please.”
“Don’t be ashamed, doll. We’re only testing Reid’s theory, remember?”
Like hell we were! When I met his amused stare, I saw so much there in his eyes. Lust, pride, possessiveness. And he was hard. One glance at his fly assured me of that.
Then Reid spanked my bared arse. This time it came out of nowhere and it shocked me to the core. “Fuck.”
“Oh yes, she’s wet,” he murmured.
Again I moaned, my body wavering.
“Take her underwear off,” Dominic instructed.
I had to pant in order to regulate my breathing.
“Okay, underwear coming off,” Reid announced, and sexual tension poured from him. Gripping the slender band on my G-string he drew it slowly over the rise of my arse and lower, before letting it hang free around my knees.
The skimpy underwear gave marginal covering, and yet removing it was so significant. My heart hammered in my chest.
Dominic’s were hooded and dark. “Why don’t you touch her, stroke her…I want you to be sure she’s ready for me.”
I swore beneath my breath, astonished that the pair of them had me this way, vulnerable and exposed, and yet hungry for their attention.
“I don’t think Tanya has a problem with being touched,” Dominic added. “Do you, doll? Not while you’re so aroused and all.”
There was humor in his tone, but he’d asked for my consent. The power was mine. Briefly. Awareness flared inside me. I glanced at his groin and that impressive bulge beneath his fly. “On one condition, you let me suck you off while he does it.”
“Jesus, Tanya,” Reid muttered. If I thought he was tense before, that was nothing compared to how he was now. Even so, his hand rested on the curve of my hip, and I knew that he didn’t want to stop doing what we were doing.
Dominic’s eyebrows flickered. “Maybe.”
That seemed to confirm it for Reid. He landed another spank on my bottom. Then he ran his fingers up and down the sticky, swollen folds of my pussy.
My sex clenched, my thighs shuddering. I pushed the footstool to one side and moved toward Dominic. I was barely aware of my G-string tangling over my ankles and then trailing on to the floor behind me because Reid was right there with me, his fingers exploring my slick, swollen folds while I grappled for Dominic’s belt and fly.
His cock sprang free, totemlike, and my hands were shaking as I wrapped them around its base, gratefully, sucking the swollen crown into my mouth. Carefully, I lowered both hands and lifted his balls, nursing them as I took his cock deeper into my mouth. The very fact I was here and he was letting me love him in front of Reid made my desire condense and soar. Adoring his cock, I cherished it with my mouth, stroking its sensitive underside with my tongue before riding it in and out of my mouth until Dominic reached to touch my face, tentatively, and sighed.
“You do that so well.”
I couldn’t resist lifting my head to respond. “I know.” I gazed into his eyes. “I know because that’s what you always tell me when I suck your cock.” Dominic’s cheeks flickered with tension, his eyes blazing with pride.
Reid stroked my pussy again, and his fleeting touch over my clit made me ripple, physically. The cock in my hand reached, arcing in my grip. This was really working for Dominic. Who was I to question it? I didn’t think on it any more; I just reacted. “Oh yes,” I whispered, moving my pussy against Reid’s hand. “That’s good.”
Dominic stood up, his hand on his cock both sure and arrogantly sexy. “Enough. I’ll take over.”
My body hummed with joy.
Reid moved, but I heard Dominic instructing him not to leave.
Did he want to show Reid who was boss? Was that what had triggered Dominic’s claim? Whatever the reason, I was grateful, and when I felt Dominic climb between my legs and he slid one finger into me, easily, I realized that Reid’s presence did something to me, too. It made it so hot that I couldn’t deny this need. Dominic was going to make love to me in front of our oldest mutual friend, and I wanted it. How would I feel afterward, though?
Embarrassment and arousal tangled inside me, and I wriggled and writhed, keyed up and willingly a slave to my lover’s will. There was no other option. I had to accept that Reid would always know me this way—the way Dominic had allowed him to know me.
Then Dominic’s cock was there, easing inside me, and for a moment that was all there was in the whole wide world, the glorious feeling of being stretched open by him—the thrust and glide, the crucial contact deep within. I writhed and bucked under him, reaching for every thrust he had for me. My lover, my man. His hands on my hips, anchoring me—owning me—confirmed it.
“You looked so hot,” he said as he worked back and forth, and his hand rested lovingly at the base of my spine. “How could I resist this?” He thrust harder, and I cried out loud, my climax gathering.
“Jesus, do you two know how hard this is for me, watching this?” Reid said, from the sidelines.
When I turned my face to one side, I could see him staring at us, his eyes bright.
I wasn’t ashamed. That surprised me, but it was true.
“Yeah, right,” Dominic retorted, and thrust deeper still. “I know you. It must be a real struggle having to watch your very own live sex show. It’s one of your fantasies, buddy, I haven’t forgotten that.”
Reid grinned, and I knew then that it would be okay between us, afterward.
“You always knew she’d be this hot,” Dominic said. “Didn’t you?” With his hand wrapped in my hair, he gave a gentle tug, lifting my head.
I gasped, marveling at the way that simple action made my whole body arch. His cock rode up, pressing against the front wall of my sex. Orgasm was close, and I clutched at Dominic’s abandoned chair as I worked my hips against his.
When I glanced Reid’s way, he nodded. “Yes, I always knew.”
I had to dig my fingers into the chair to hold steady as I hit my peak. When I felt Dominic answer, his cock pumping into me, my orgasm rolled on, taking me to another level.
When I eventually surfaced, Dominic held me, kissed the side of my face.
I rocked back against him, dizzy with pleasure.
Reid was leaned up against the wall, watching as we pulled our clothing straight. “I want what you two have,” he said, with a wistful smile. He often said that, but he meant it differently. The affection in his expression moved me.
“You’ll find your girl soon,”
I said. He’d already been waiting too long.
“Yes,” Dominic added, “and until then I’ll allow you to spank my woman from time to time, just to warm her up for me…you understand?”
These two had known each other a long time and there was genuine affection between them. Reid’s throwaway comment about spanking had brought this about, but I could see he was erect and he made no attempt to hide it. Would he think of us, later, when he was alone? One thing I was sure of, Dominic had drawn the line exactly where he wanted it to be.
Reid smiled and lifted his glass, toasting us. “I understand.”
When Dominic lowered his head to kiss me on the neck, tenderly and lovingly, I noticed how intently Reid watched.
“What are friends for?,” Reid asked, and there was admiration in his eyes. Desire, too. He wanted more.
My G-string dangled from his finger, like a suggestion.
At my back, Dominic chuckled knowingly. “Of course, he’d have to take his eyes off you long enough to find a woman of his own.”
Reid’s smile grew.
As I took the underwear from his outstretched hand I wondered if that territorial line of Dominic’s would be shifted again. Would we three go even further?
Perhaps we would.
Meanwhile, life was good.
Homecoming
By Willsin Rowe
I had the taxi driver drop me at the corner coffee shop. It still felt too soon to see her, even after two years away. Actually, because of the two years away.
I ordered a caramel latte and pulled Mia’s picture from my backpack. It was from a sports magazine, the kind that celebrates the achievements of female athletes with beautiful tits.
She’d actually made the cover, which is the only reason I’d even found the article. For me, though, it was this picture that really mattered. Taken from behind, it showed her wavy black hair dancing loosely down her naked back. She was looking over her shoulder, her eyes almost angry with intensity.