The safety of our own house; there is no better feeling.
We undressed and got into bed.
“I thought I’d suck you,” she said. “All that talk during dessert got me in the mood for sucking.” She asked, “What do you want?”
“To eat your ass,” I said.
“Let me suck you off,” she said, “then you can lick me to your heart’s desire.”
I loved our silly talk. I laid back as she took me into her mouth. She was rather rough, and while the penetration of her mouth was shallow, her roughness with me brought me to quick excitement. I was surprised at how fast I came. She hummed, swallowing, and lay next to me.
“I could sleep now,” she said.
I was rubbing her back with one hand, that hand moving down to her ass. I ran the images of her bent over the pool table, a head-movie I would come to again and again the next few days. The excitement was still there.
I kissed her on the mouth, twisting her neck back to do so, strands of her hair between us. I kissed her hair, her neck, down her back. I kissed each buttock, taking a moment to admire the contours of this flesh, and spread them with my hands, getting a view of her sweet asshole. I tasted it, and it was as sweet as it always was, as I anticipated it to be, as I dreamt and desired and knew.
I started off slow and gentle, running my tongue around the perimeter of her sphincter. She responded appropriately, arching her butt, emitting small sounds of approval. With one finger, I opened her asshole so my tongue could slide in. My entire universe, at that moment, consisted of her ass and my tongue. I took her in, mouth and soul full of her, and felt high. I was hard again. With my free hand I stroked myself to a complete erection. I told her I wanted her and she said yes. I got up, went to the bathroom, came back with the tube of K-Y, applying a healthy portion first to my cock, and then her ass. I slid my middle finger in and she gasped. I tongued her some more, put more K-Y on my cock, and positioned myself. I got the head of my cock in, then stopped, asking if she was okay.
“Just fuck me,” she said, and as I went in she kept saying, “Fuck me, fuck me, dammit, fuck me,” and I did.
Her ass juiced around my cock. I began slowly, and built a fast friction. She began to slam her ass up, to meet my thrusts, and a loud slap was heard when our flesh met. I though I could go on all night – forever – like this. I came in her ass and stayed still for a minute, removing my flesh from hers. I lay next to her.
“I could sleep now,” I said.
Ashley looked at me. The make-up was smeared around her eyes. She sat up, taking my hand. She kissed my mouth, kissed my neck, my chest, my stomach. She kissed me and I could taste myself on her. “I can sleep now,” she said, and we did, in each other’s arms.
I woke up twice that night, because she was awake, sitting up, looking out the window.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She turned to me and was quiet for a moment. “I really enjoyed tonight,” she said.
“So did I,” I said.
“I enjoyed every minute.”
“It was nice,” I said.
“It’s going to work, isn’t it?” Ashley said. “Our marriage won’t fall apart, after all. We needed this.”
I moved to her and said, “Yes.”
“I want more,” she said. “I want to do more perverted things. With you. And out in public, I want to wear more provocative clothes.”
“That can be arranged.” I said.
“I want us to try everything,” she said, and we went back to sleep.
The second time was close to morning. She was looking at the ceiling. I held her close to me. She closed her eyes and I closed mine.
Red Leather
Let your fantasies run away with you, and you’ll get in trouble.
Ashley and I –
Of course, we had to take The Dress back into the world. One time wasn’t enough; the very thought of it was addictive. I have to admit I was having dreams of this, and all the various, enticing scenarios we could find ourselves in as a result.
We go about our everyday lives in an everyday way; we get up, we shower, we dress, we grab something to eat, we go to work, we do what we do in the world and make money so we can subsist; and we come home. I wanted more and Ashley wanted more – there had to be more to our lives. Some sort of adventure we couldn’t correctly pinpoint – like it was at the tip of our tongues, yet memory failed us. We thought we were looking for danger, I suppose, but we were merely playing head games and maybe, maybe, we didn’t have a clue how to fully live the lives we thought we wanted.
After we made love, she caressed my face; she said, “I want to go back there again.”
“You want to open yourself,” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
She meant the club outside the city, where we met Nicole. Again.
It was almost like we were repeating ourselves. Two weeks ago we’d been here, and it was the same night, and Ashley had The Dress on, and, before leaving, she had twinges of second thought.
“Tell me,” she said.
So by the car I held her close to me. I looked into her eyes. I told her, “You’ll feel exposed.”
“I want to be exposed,” she said.
I didn’t have to tell her anything else. We got into the car, put the heater on, and drove to the club. We arrived pretty much the same time we’d arrived before, and found the two bar-stools behind the DJ’s booth. It was almost as if two weeks hadn’t gone by. I got us drinks, and we drank, and I got us more, and we kissed, and I pulled The Dress up from behind with my thumbs, glancing at her perfect white ass in the mirror behind us. I thought, she can suck me off in the car when we go home, and I’ll put on the interior light, and a truck will pass by, and some stranger will get a glimpse.
“Look,” Ashley said.
I relieved The Dress from my grip. Ashley smoothed it out, and I turned to where she had nodded her head. Across the dance floor were the same two women and man we’d seen before, in the red dresses with the scooped backs. The two women were in red again, yes, but red leather this time: red leather mini-skirts and fishnet stockings with small red leather jackets exposing breasts barely covered by satin red bras. I have to admit the sight was amazing, as both their red minis were, perhaps, just millimeters shorter than The Dress, and one slight move could, I knew, uncloak something quite interesting. The three were looking at us as we were looking at them. As if on cue, the two women got up, strode across the dance floor, and went to the DJ’s booth. I knew they were going to look down at us. I took this opportunity to draw Ashley close to me for a long kiss, and a pull at The Dress.
“Hey,” Ashley said.
“They want a peek,” I said. “Let’s give them one.”
Ashley, embarrassed, hid her face in my shoulder as I lifted The Dress, looked up, and saw both red-leather-clad women glancing down. I watched them descend from the steps; I tried to get a peek under their skirts, but it was too dark. There was music. The women got on the dance floor and their male companion joined them. Ashley and I watched. I suggested we should dance but Ashley didn’t want to move. After a few songs, the trio went back to their table and refreshed their drinks. One of the women, the one (I’m sure) I’d talked to last time (they both had dark cropped hair, though), continued to glance our way. At one point, I raised my drink and smiled. Ashley slapped my hand.
I said, “Just being friendly.”
“We don’t need to be friendly,” Ashley said, then, “Oops.”
Oops was that the women in the splendid red leather was walking our way. She wasn’t going to the DJ’s booth because her direction and eyes were straight for us. Ashley self-consciously adjusted the hem of The Dress and tried, demurely, to cross her legs – to no no avail. The woman carried her drink, which looked like a vodka martini. She put the drink on our table; there wasn’t a third chair so she stood.
“Hello,” she said.
“Nicole,” I said.
“You have a good me
mory,” she said.
I introduced Ashley and myself.
“Hope I’m not too forward,” Nicole said, “but what the hell, I’m always forward. Forward is my middle name, and my last name. I thought I should come over here. You were here a couple of weeks ago.”
“You have a good memory,” I said.
She explained that she and her friends came here almost every night of the week, including Sundays and Mondays when it was often dead (it hadn’t picked up yet, this night, but she assured us it would). She also said we were a couple hard to forget – especially that dress, she said. “It’s a nice dress.”
Ashley didn’t know what to do. “Thank you,” she said.
“Provocative,” Nicole said.
“I’d say the same for your outfit,” I said.
“Well,” Nicole said, “I’m wearing underwear.”
Under the table, Ashley gripped my knee. She was flustered and embarrassed and doing a damn good job not showing it toward this stranger.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Nicole said with a smile. “I mean, it’s all more effective without underwear. There are some good snapshots you’ve been giving us and other people around here tonight, and before, too. Last time, when you left, you were quite the conversation piece. But I suspect that’s what you wanted. People do certain things – people do most things – intentionally. You’re very beautiful,” she said to Ashley.
“Oh,” Ashley said, “thank you.”
Nicole looked at our hands. “Married?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Can I tell you something about your wife?” Nicole asked me.
“Sure,” I said.
Nicole said, “Sitting over there, getting a crotch shot now and then, all I could think about was burying my face into your pretty wife’s beautiful cunt.”
That set Ashley off. She was red in the face now; she uncrossed and crossed her legs; she pulled at the hemline; she said, “Oh, well . . .”
Nicole laughed, reaching over and patting Ashley’s hand, saying, “Hang on just a minute.” She went back to her friends. Intentionally, Nicole put a sway to her walk, touched her red leather mini, pulling it up some, showing us the thong underwear creased between her ass cheeks.
Ashley finished her drink, quickly, and said, “Maybe we should leave.”
“Do you really want to?”
“I don’t know.”
We saw that Nicole’s entourage was leaving. Nicole turned and walked back, smoothing out the red leather skirt and smiling all the time. She sat back down. We’d had our chance to escape but failed to make that move.
“So,” Nicole said, “I’m free.”
It would be pointless to record some of the mundane details of conversation and silence, both of which were dull, helped on by another round of drinks. Nicole suggested the three of us dance. I looked at Ashley and she got up from her stool. I must admit I felt rather lucky in the company of these two resplendent women on the dance floor, both with hemlines so short that the moves we made to the music (a little too fast and modern for my tastes) certainly bared something now and then – something which I tried to get a look at, but they were both moving so quickly, gyrating, that I only caught glimpses at what may have been hints of real flesh or just my imagination. I was intrigued that Ashley was able to loosen up so quickly – I wasn’t sure if this was caused by our drinking or Nicole’s warm gestures of friendship. Either way, my wife took a quick liking to Nicole. I had to stand back a moment as we danced, and watch the two of them, knowing there was erotic exchange both obvious and alien.
We returned to our table. Nicole was close to Ashley. They smiled at me and I smiled back. Nicole touched my wife’s bare knee and said, looking at me, “You know, my friends are gone and I don’t have a ride home.”
Ashley and I were more drunk than we usually were after leaving a bar or club. I am often nervous about drinking and driving – I was quite over the legal limit here – but that night, I didn’t give a damn. It was one of those nights. Nicole was in the back seat, and we were taking her home; somewhere between drinks and dances and chatting, Nicole managed to get us to invite her back to our house. Nicole leaned forward and said, “Drive faster.”
I did.
Ashley and Nicole were in a giddy and giggling mood. Ashley said, “Do you want to know something?” and laughed.
Nicole ran her hands through Ashley’s hair.
Ashley laughed again.
“What?” Nicole said.
“The last time,” my wife said, “the last time we were here, that one time, when we drove home, I sucked him off as he drove, and I was naked, and he had the light on, so people in passing cars could see me.”
I looked at her. She knew. I smiled. She was insidious; I wondered what else she knew.
“That’s nice,” Nicole said. “I like that,” she said. “Would you do it again?” she said to my wife. “Would you suck him so I can watch?”
Ashley giggled. She looked at Nicole and realized Nicole was serious. “Well,” Ashley said, “okay.” She looked at me.
Nicole ran her fingers through my hair this time and said, “Relax, it’s okay. Drive faster.”
I didn’t drive faster.
Ashley was pulling The Dress off her body. She was having trouble in the cramped confines of the seat, and being drunk didn’t help.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“It has to just be like last time,” she said. “Don’t you want to?”
Of course I wanted to. As with all new experiences, I was nervous and excited. Our exhibitionism had always been at a safe distance, viewed by those we never talked to or were themselves discreet enough to play the game of secrets and surprises; we’d never had an active participant, watching so close. Still, my cock was hard and I had it out of my pants, looking at my naked wife and the road, catching quick glances of Nicole in the rearview mirror. Ashley said, “Here goes nothing,” and she moved her head into my lap. Nicole reached up and turned on the interior light, like she could read my mind, like she knew exactly what to do. Nicole moved closer so she could watch Ashley.
“Drive faster,” Nicole said again, almost in my ear.
“I can’t drive too fast,” I said.
“Just a little bit faster.”
I drove a little bit faster.
“Sizzle,” Nicole said.
Inside our house, I made all three of us a drink. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I had a good idea, and I was hoping, and I was scared at the same time. We were drunk – Ashley was drunk – and how were we going to both feel tomorrow? Looking at the two women in my home, I told myself, what does tomorrow matter? You’re always thinking about tomorrow. Live for the moment. Living for the moment was what I planned to do. The three of us were in the living room: I was leaning against a wall, Nicole was standing in the middle (as if she stood before mirrors to get that stance: legs apart, drink in hand, one hand on hip, oblique smile, skirt riding high) and Ashley was sitting on the couch, slumped, The Dress bunched up (she had quickly put it back on before we came inside) and pubic hair visible.
“Spread your legs for me,” Nicole said.
“Okay,” Ashley said. There was only a moment of indecision, then she slowly opened her legs. I could see, from where I was, that my wife was very wet.
Nicole turned to me and said, “I want some of her.” I nodded. Nicole walked over to Ashley and stood above her. Ashley looked up, and looked at me, titillation and vacillation on her face. I thought about my come that had been in her mouth, and how she’d shown Nicole this in the car (at Nicole’s request): opening her mouth to Nicole, my come on her tongue, her teeth, the roof of her mouth. Nicole finished her drink, put it down on the coffee table, and knelt before Ashley. She touched Ashley’s face, neck; she said, “You turn me on.”
Ashley’s hand was shaking when she put her drink to her mouth; she drank quickly. Nicole took the glass from her, placing it next to the other glass. I
moved near to watch. My wife closed her eyes when Nicole lightly kissed her on the lips, hands on my wife’s breasts, hips, bunching The Dress up more, spreading Ashley’s legs just a little wider and moving to kiss around Ashley’s vagina.
Nicole took a patch of blonde pubic hair and gently chewed on it, which received a favorable response from Ashley. I could smell Ashley’s musk from where I stood, and where I stood was a good place: a wonderful view of Nicole’s ass perched upward, her own skirt pulled taut so that I got a good view of her black thong underwear. At this point, Nicole had spread Ashley’s cunt open with two hands and was licking all over. Ashley shuddered and immediately came, and Nicole continued to lick, and suck at Ashley’s clit. I knew what I had to do, and I was quick about it. I rushed to the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and for a dreaded moment I thought they were gone. No, no: they were there. Three packaged condoms. They’d been there for over two years but I knew they still had to be good.
When I returned to the living room, Ashley’s body was in the throes of spasm and she was moaning loudly; Nicole had her face pressed deeply into my wife’s cunt. I moved behind Nicole and got on my knees. Nicole briefly looked back at me and smiled, telling me it was okay. Ashley also looked at me, briefly, and closed her eyes again, caught in her own delectation. I pushed the red leather mini higher, out of the way, squeaking new leather sound at my palms. Nicole’s fishnets were held up by black lace garters, which probably gave me more of an instant erection than the proximity of this woman’s ass to my flesh.
I pulled on the thong, first forward so the material would, I hoped, stimulate both her cunt and asshole. Then I pulled it back and down, leaving them near her knees. Nicole’s response was to eat my wife’s cunt faster and harder, making Ashley come again. I was amazed at Ashley’s intensity and orgasm, her back curvature, her face sweating, her breath so hard I thought she might hyperventilate. It was a combination of the alcohol and the thrill of this situation; all the times Ashley had expressed an interest to be with a woman, and she was finally doing it. My cock was out and I had two fingers in Nicole’s cunt.
The Mammoth Book of Erotica presents The Best of Michael Hemmingson Page 8
