Sweet Danger

by Violet Blue

  “What’s wrong with kissing her hand?” I had a weakness for old-fashioned manners.

  “Well, it’s the hand she uses to masturbate, of course. Like you’re doing right now.”

  Without my realizing it, my hand had wandered back down between my legs. I jerked it away.

  Brian laughed. Holding the camera steady, he reached up and guided my fingers back to my pussy. “Don’t be bashful, honey. He wants to watch you do it. So do I.”

  And the truth was, I wanted them to see, the two pairs of eyes floating before me, Brian’s the greenish-gray of a northern sea, the rich guy’s golden and glittering.

  “Where does he watch it? In his home theater?” Under the veil of my lashes I studied the screen. My labia jiggled lewdly as my finger strummed on. That’s what the rich guy would see as he sat on his leather couch in his silk dressing gown. A wine-colored gown, the same color as his swollen dick. He’d pull it out and stroke it as he watched.

  “A home theater, yes,” Brian said softly. “State of the art.”

  “Why are you doing this? Don’t you care if your wife shows her cunt to some horny billionaire?” The words came in gasps.

  “The joke’s on him. We’ll take his money and get a suite in the fanciest hotel in town and fuck all night.” Brian sounded winded, too, as if he’d just finished a run. Then I realized he was jerking off.

  “I’m not a whore.” I was half-sobbing, from shame and pleasure.

  “Of course you’re not, honey. You’re a nice, pretty married lady. That’s what he wants. Someone he’d glimpse at the gourmet grocery store or the espresso bar, buying a nonfat decaf cappuccino. I see guys staring at you. If only they knew the truth about my sweet-faced angel. If only they knew you want it so bad you shave your pussy and let men take pictures of it.”

  Sounds were coming out of my throat, sounds I’d never made before, high-pitched whines and animal moans.

  “You’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen, but no matter how much he pays he can never have the real you.”

  “Oh, god, I’m gonna come,” I whimpered.

  A hand closed around my wrist and wrenched it away.

  “He’ll pay an extra thousand if you come while we fuck.”

  “Did Ashley do it?” I panted. I knew what the answer would be.

  “Jake said she had the best orgasm of her life.”

  Brian hurriedly fixed the camera to the tripod, adjusted the height, then lifted me to my feet and took my place on the chair.

  “Face the camera,” he said.

  My knees were as soft as melted caramel, but by gripping the arms of the chair I managed to position myself properly. On the screen Brian’s penis reared up, my smooth snatch hovering above.

  “Sit on it.”

  I lowered myself onto him with a sigh. Then I was up again, a woman who couldn’t make up her mind. Up or down? It was there in full color: Brian’s rod plunging in and out, his balls dangling beneath like a small pink pillow. “Now turn around and ride me.”

  In a daze I straddled him, my knees digging into the cushion. Just last week, we’d done it this way on the sofa. We pretended it was prom night, and we were sneaking a midnight quickie while my parents snored in the bedroom upstairs.

  “Do you like to fuck with a shaved twat?”

  “Yes,” I confessed. “I like to rub my bare lips on you.” Which was exactly what I was doing, lingering on the downstroke to grind my exposed clit against the rough hairs at the base of his cock.

  “You’re so wet. That rich guy can hear it. Your hungry lips gobbling up my cock.”

  Brian began to twist my nipples between his fingers.

  “It’s an extra five hundred if you show him your asshole.”

  I grunted assent and bucked harder. In that position, the rich guy could see it anyway.

  Then he whispered in my ear, “And another five hundred if you let me touch it.”

  I froze mid-thrust. “Please, Brian, don’t,” I whispered back. I didn’t want the rich guy to hear. We’d recently discovered that when Brian diddles my butt crack when we fuck, it feels like a second clit. I loved it, but I was embarrassed and wanted it to be our secret. Brian knew he could make me blush just talking about it.

  “Why not, baby? Because he’ll know you’re a bad girl who comes when I play with your pretty ass?”

  “Please,” I begged. My asshole, however, seemed to have other ideas, the brazen little show-off, pushing itself out, all plumped and ticklish.

  “Please what, Kira? I know you want it, but I won’t touch it until you say yes.”

  “Please,” I gasped. “Yes.”

  “That’s a good girl. Nice and polite.”

  Good girl, bad girl, I wasn’t sure what I was, but it didn’t matter. My torso rippled like a column of heat between his hands, one tweaking my nipple, the other going to town on my quivering bottom. Our bodies made rude noises, swampy, squishy sounds—or was it the rich guy whacking off? He probably used a special custom-made lotion to make his dick all slippery. He’d be close to the end now, pumping his fist faster and faster, his single nether eye weeping a tear of delight. He’d gotten everything he wanted. The cool lady in the gourmet grocery store was unzipped and undone, a bitch in heat, writhing shamelessly on her husband’s cock for his viewing pleasure.

  But I had one little surprise left for him.

  “What if you spank it? Is that another thousand?”

  “Two thousand.” I could tell Brian was close, too.

  “I want him to see it. Spank my naughty asshole,” I yelled, so the rich guy could hear.

  The first slap sent a jolt straight through me that quickly dissolved into pleasure, foamy fingers of a wave creeping into the hollows of my body.

  “Again.”

  Smack.

  Each blow hammered me deeper onto Brian’s cock. I pushed my ass out to take the next one, to show that rich guy I could do it. He was so turned on, I could feel his eyes burning into my back through the screen. But it wasn’t just him. There were others watching—my parents, my tenth-grade science teacher, the postal clerk who sneaks glances at my tits, a Supreme Court Justice or two—dozens of them, their faces twisted into masks of shock and fascination. And beneath, in the shadows, hands were stroking hard-ons or shoved into panties, damp and fragrant with arousal. They liked it, all of them, and I was watching them as they watched me in an endless circle of revelation and desire.

  “I’m…gonna…come.”

  “Come for him. Now!” Brian bellowed. The last slaps fell like firecrackers snapping, and I jerked my hips to their rhythm as my climax tore through my belly. With the chair springs squeaking like crazy and Brian grunting, fuck your shaved pussy, fuck it, that rich guy got himself quite a show.

  I’d say it was worth every penny.

  Afterward, I pulled Brian down to the carpet with me. Our profiles filled the screen. He’d seen me and I’d seen him and we fit so well together and I loved him more than anything. I told him that. Or maybe I just kissed him, a deep soul kiss that lasted a long, long time.

  The rich guy got that part for free.

  Old Friends

  N. T. MORLEY

  “Are you excited to finally meet Gina?” asked Brooke.

  “Yeah,” I said, not sounding very convincing.

  “I’m sure you two will hit it off,” said my wife, beaming broadly. There was the faintest hint of mischief in her look, and I wondered what was going on in her head. Then Gina walked off the plane, and my eyes went wide.

  Of course, I’d seen pictures of my wife’s best friend from college. Early in our relationship, Brooke had subjected me to every last snapshot, leading me through her big books of photos in that way new girlfriends sometimes do. I’d seen pictures of Brooke and Gina frolicking on the beach, bikiniclad; grinning together at Disneyland, wearing mouse ears; and drinking fruit drinks together at frat parties. Through it all, I’d acknowledged in my own mind that Gina was attractive. But of course I’d been
much too polite to say that to my new girlfriend, who had later become my wife.

  Now, however, I couldn’t disguise the shock and admiration that flooded me. It was all I could do to keep my tongue in my mouth.

  Gina was gorgeous. Some girls blossom after college, I guess. Her fine, Italian features were framed by a magnificent mane of jet-black hair and punctuated with small horn-rimmed glasses that gave her the bookish look I find so sexy. With her, though, the look was more female executive than librarian. That fit with what I knew about Gina: she was an advertising analyst with an MBA, successful at her job and dedicated enough that even at twenty-eight she remained single.

  But what floored me wasn’t just her beautiful face, full kissable lips, or the rich glow of her olive-tan skin. It was the way her body looked under that tight, flattering business suit, all executive chic. Gina was built, the curves of her large breasts and full hips providing such a contrast to Brooke’s wispy, slender form and angular bone structure. Both were incredibly sexy, but I guess I was so surprised to see Gina looking like such a sexpot that I couldn’t hide my sudden, unexpected attraction.

  Of course, Brooke and Gina had already planned my descent into depravity—without giving me the details, Brooke had assured me that plenty of attention had been paid to my deepest fantasies. That probably added something to the sexual tension between us.

  “See?” said Brooke with a wicked smile. “I knew you’d think she was hot.”

  “Bubby!” shrieked Gina like a schoolgirl, using Brooke’s college nickname. The two girls squealed as they rushed together, hugging excitedly. I couldn’t help but notice the familiar way my wife let her hands rest on Gina’s hips, nor the fact that they kissed on the lips—more than once.

  “You must be Bob,” said Gina, extending her hand.

  “Gina,” I said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Just the good stuff, I hope,” said Gina.

  Brooke hugged her close and kissed Gina on the side of the face. “With Gina,” she cooed, “there’s only good stuff to tell.”

  “Stop!” giggled Gina, and I reached for her bags.

  For the next three days, I was all but forgotten as Gina and Brooke shared recollections of their wild and crazy college days. They stayed up late drinking wine and giggling, and I found myself sleeping alone. Brooke had taken the week off work, and while I was gone during the day the two of them cruised the city, which Gina had never visited before. Brooke showed Gina all of our favorite haunts, and by midweek I was feeling vaguely neglected.

  Worse, though, Gina had proven to be pretty casual about making the house her own. She was sleeping on the couch, which created a few embarrassing moments. As I left for work early one morning, I saw that the blanket on the couch had slipped down below Gina’s magnificent D-cup breasts, so different than Brooke’s firm B-cups. I could see the outline of them clearly under the damp cotton sheet, her nipples firm and evident underneath. Her breasts moved up and down as she breathed softly in her sleep. I stopped dead in my tracks and stood there, staring, my cock stirring in my pants.

  After a minute of that, Gina opened her eyes. “Hi,” she said, her voice sexy and flirtatious. She didn’t move to cover her breasts.

  I looked away nervously and said, “Good morning,” rather crisply. Then I hurried out the apartment door. As I stole a glance back at Gina, I saw that she was watching me, a smile on those full, lush Italian lips.

  But nothing prepared me for what happened when I came home from work that Friday. As I walked in the front door of our apartment, leafing through a stack of bills from the mailbox, I stopped and listened.

  There was moaning coming from the bedroom. I recognized Brooke’s moans right away—after all, I’d made her utter them often enough. And it didn’t take long for me to figure out that the second set of whimpers, moans, and grunts belonged to Gina.

  I dropped the bills on the floor and walked softly to the door of the bedroom, which they’d left open.

  There, sprawled on the bed, were my wife and her old friend, stark naked and locked passionately in a sixty-nine.

  Gina was on top, her gorgeous ass deliciously facing me. Her legs were spread wide around my wife’s face, and Brooke was eagerly eating her old friend’s pussy while Gina humped just as eagerly up and down. Brooke’s legs, too, were spread wide around Gina’s face, and the old friend seemed to be giving as good as she got. Their hands roved all over each others’ naked bodies, caressing as they ate each other out.

  The room reeked of sex, telling me that they’d probably been at this all day. Their clothes lay scattered across the floor, as if they’d doffed them urgently, unable to wait to get each other into bed. Our bed. My wife was making love with a woman in our bed, right in front of my eyes.

  I felt my cock quickly grow hard until it throbbed painfully. My cock swelled as quickly as my anger.

  I don’t know if I shifted or moved my feet, or if Brooke just sensed I was there. But she turned her head and looked back at me, her eyes wide in shock.

  “Oh, god,” she moaned. “Bob…”

  I pulled the bedroom door shut and turned to leave the apartment.

  Brooke caught up with me on the landing outside, still stark naked. She grabbed me and said, “I’m so sorry,” trying to embrace me.

  “You’re standing here naked like a whore,” I growled, my anger rising as I saw my wife’s body glistening with the sweat Gina had coaxed out of her. “Like a fucking whore.”

  “I…I’m sorry,” said Brooke, reddening more deeply. “She…she came on to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  I felt my anger flaring, exploding into flames. “You bring a fucking slut into our house and then act surprised when she tumbles you into bed. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Brooke.”

  “There’s no need to be a bastard about it,” snapped Brooke. She looked around, realizing that the neighbors could probably see her, standing there, naked. “When you’re ready to talk about this, come back in the house.”

  She went back into the apartment. I chased after her and grabbed her shoulders from behind, pushing her onto the couch. She stumbled and fell, shrieking.

  “Bob, you’re being such a prick about this. It’s really not that big a deal.”

  “Not that big a deal, is it?”

  I could see Brooke’s anger rising to match mine. “Gina and I used to fool around in college,” she said defensively. “When she came on to me, I figured it wouldn’t be a problem if I did it for old times’ sake.”

  I turned toward the bedroom, seeing Gina standing there in the doorway, her hands up on the jamb, her face twisted in a cruel smile. I let my eyes rove over her gorgeous body, admiring her full breasts with their firm nipples, now so erect from the passion of lovemaking. Her pussy was shaved smooth, her lips showing full and sex-swollen between her legs. There was a tattoo of a rose where her pubic hair had been shaved. Her face glistened with the juices of my wife’s cunt.

  I could smell sex, rich and ripe, the scent suffusing the apartment.

  “It’s true, Bob. I came on to her.”

  “You shut up,” I said, pointing my finger at her. “If it’s not a big deal, Brooke, then I’m going to fuck Gina, too.”

  Brooke’s eyes went wide. “Wait—wait, don’t be hasty, Bob, I—”

  “I’m not being hasty,” I said, turning to Gina. “What do you say, Gina? You want to save your best friend’s marriage and spread those legs of yours?”

  Gina smiled. “In an instant,” she said. “Brooke tells me you’ve got a nice big cock.”

  “Come find out,” I said, unbuckling my belt.

  “Wait, wait,” said Brooke. “Gina, don’t do this.”

  Gina started toward me. When she put her arms around me, her naked body smelled moist and ripe with sweat. Brooke sat on the couch, stunned, staring at us as Gina pressed her lips to mine and wrapped her fingers around the bulge in my pants.

  She turned to the seemingly horrified Brooke. It
was only later I realized that if I’d been watching more closely, I might have caught the look that passed between them—and Gina’s wink.

  But at that moment, all I saw was Gina’s naked body, her tits pressed to me, her hand curving around my cock.

  “Don’t worry, Brooke,” said Gina. “I have to do it. To save your marriage.”

  Brooke’s expression changed, going from horror and anger to pleasure. She smiled.

  “All right, Bob,” she said. “Go ahead and fuck Gina. I’ll watch.” Brooke sat down on the couch, tucking her feet under her.

  Gina unbuttoned my pants and worked the zipper down over my hard cock. She dropped to her knees, pulling my cock out.

  The scent of the two women’s naked bodies filled my nostrils. I was going to fuck Gina good, so good she’d scream. I was going to punish Brooke by making her watch me do Gina. It was a hateful thing to do, I knew, but my jealousy was driving me.

  Brooke got off the couch, put her arms around me and kissed me fully on the lips. When her tongue slipped into my mouth, I could taste Gina’s pussy, rich and tangy on my wife’s mouth.

  “I’m sorry, Bob,” said Brooke when our lips separated. “I tried to be good. I was kind of hoping you’d make a move on her so I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. Please tell me you’re not mad.”

  “I am,” I said.

  At that moment Gina’s lips closed around the head of my cock and began to slide up and down the erect shaft. I gasped and moaned softly as Brooke took my hand in hers and placed it on top of Gina’s bobbing head. The two women guided me to the couch and sat me down; as Gina repositioned herself between my legs, I reached down and took hold of those magnificent tits I’d been spending the whole week fantasizing about touching. Brooke put her hand on mine and guided one of my thumbs to Gina’s nipple. As I pinched gently her breathtaking face twisted in an expression of ecstasy, her nipples already sensitized from her long lovemaking session with my wife.

  Brooke began to kiss me hungrily, our tongues mingling as she reached down to wrap her fingers around the base of my cock while Gina sucked the head. Brooke unbuttoned my shirt and began to suckle my nipples; I lay back on the couch.