Erotic Sluts - 8 Dirty Stories

by AE Publications

  Again Shyla obeyed without comment.

  Steve tried not to let his amazement show. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually done anything he’d asked. Weeks, maybe even months. But here she’d done it twice within one minute. He idly wondered why he hadn’t tried doing something like this earlier in their relationship. At least he could have gotten something out their time together. Oh well, too late now. All he could do was take advantage of it this one time. He’d better make it worthwhile.

  Steve guided his cock into Shyla’s mouth.

  With one hand on top of her head and one under her chin, he moved his cock in and out of her mouth, only giving her about half his dick to start. She took it like a champ, not gagging or coughing, not fighting him at all but certainly not bringing anything to the party herself, just sitting there with her mouth open and her eyes closed while he pumped her face.

  “Open your eyes and look up at me,” Steve said, mostly just to see if Shyla would still do as he told her.

  She did, tilting her head slightly and looking up at him, her big brown eyes ringed with black mascara. She still wasn’t into it but that didn’t matter. It was a massive turn-on to fuck her mouth while she held eye contact with him.

  Steve shifted his hands so they were grasping the back of her head and proceeded to pump her faster, pulling her head towards him with every thrust, giving her more of his cock every time. And then he gave her the whole thing, shoving his entire shaft down her throat and keeping it there, his hands on the back of her head, holding her in place for a couple seconds before letting her come up for air.

  She did so with a gasp and a cough. She glared at him but didn’t say anything.

  “Are you still game?” Steve said, leaning down so his head was at the same level as her. His right hand still had a handful of her hair.

  “I can take whatever you can dish out,” Shyla said.

  “That’s the spirit,” Steve said, smiling.

  He stood up and led Shyla over to the couch by her hair. She had to crawl quickly on her hands and knees to avoid falling over. Once there, Steve spun her around and pushed her head back so it was lying flat on the cushion of the couch, her face towards the ceiling, her butt still on the floor.

  Steve dropped one knee on each side of her head and straddled Shyla’s face. Holding her head on the couch, he smacked her face with his cock a few times before sticking it back into her mouth. He pumped her mouth a few times, then adjusted his angle a bit so his cock was poking the inside of her cheek, stretching it out. He popped it out, stuck it back in, popped it out again.

  Steve climbed up a little higher so his ballsack was hovering directly above Shyla’s mouth. Her head was framed by his legs.

  “Open up,” he said, staring right at her, relishing in the control he had over her.

  Shyla opened her mouth.

  “Wider,” Steve said.

  She regarded him with contempt but did as she was instructed.

  “That’s better,” Steve said as he proceeded to drop his balls into her mouth. “Now suck on them.”

  A moan of pleasure escaped from his throat as Shyla went to work on his balls. He pressed his cock down against her face, rubbing it on her cheeks, rolling it over her nose, transferring the saliva from his cock onto her face. She maintained eye contact the entire time, as though daring him to look away in embarrassment. But that wasn’t going to happen. He was having the time of his life.

  Steve stood up and turned around as though he was going to take a seat on the couch, but instead of plopping down on one of the cushions he spread his legs and dropped his ass directly onto Shyla’s face.

  Squatting over her, one hand on the armrest for balance and the other jerking himself off, he rubbed his asshole up and down Shyla’s face, riding her nose and mouth with his crack, forcing her to taste his ass.

  “Tongue out,” he said. “And keep it there.”

  She obliged.

  “Good girl,” he said, riding her tongue with his asshole, keeping enough pressure on Shyla that she couldn’t squirm away but not too much that she couldn’t breathe.

  Steve relinquished his hold on his cock and leaned forward so he could play with Shyla’s tits. He pulled her shirt up but not off, revealing her perfectly round, perfectly fake, perfectly incredible breasts. He then grabbed ahold of one and gave it a good squeeze before switched over to the other. He pinched one of her nipples and gave it a little twist, eliciting a gasp and a shimmy from Shyla.

  Laughing softly, Steve pinched her other nipple, pulled on it for a moment or two, then rubbed his fingers together with the nipple still between them. It hardened almost immediately. Shyla let out a moan and squirmed beneath him but Steve dropped his ass further down on her face, muffling her cries, and continued to play with her nipple.

  When he finally climbed off Shyla’s face it was red and her eyes were watering and she was breathing in deep, lurching gasps but although she was glaring at him she surprisingly didn’t seemed all that pissed off.

  In fact, as Steve pulled her up onto the couch and pulled her shorts off so he could fuck her properly he realized her panties were completely soaked through. He found himself wondering if she like being treated like a slut, if maybe she actually enjoyed being tossed around like a ragdoll, if she got off on being forced to do things that most other girls would find disgusting. It was impossible to know for sure, but it sure seemed like it, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it at the moment. And to think, he’d been married to her for five years and had no clue!

  For a moment he lamented the lost possibilities of their doomed marriage but quickly thrust such thoughts from his head. They did no good. Not anymore. The damage was done, the past was past, it was time to move on. And right now moving on meant taking advantage of his soon-to-be-ex wife in ways that he’d never had the guts to try before.

  With this in mind, Steve grabbed ahold of her legs and spread them apart, then pushed them forward until her ankles were up by her head. He held one of her legs in place with one hand while he yanked her panties aside with the other. He smacked her pussy with his rock-hard cock a couple of times then slipped it in.

  Shyla was even wetter than he’d realized. Her pussy gobbled up his cock without even the slightest hint of resistance. He moved against her with vigor, gentleness be damned, his cock slamming into her with the insistence of a jackhammer. And though she’d never come out and admit it, she was obviously getting off on the pounding she was receiving.

  Her pussy was growing ever wetter, coating his cock with her juices, opening up to him further with every thrust. And although she still wasn’t making any noise, it was apparent from the look on her face that she was indeed enjoying this. Unequivocally.

  This annoyed the hell out of Steve. Shyla wasn’t supposed to be getting anything out of this, it was supposed to be all about him. Getting revenge. Making her pay. Punishing her for what she’d done to him. But she was getting off on it! What the hell? It was time to turn things up a notch.

  Steve grabbed ahold of both Shyla’s ankles and pushed her legs back until she was folded in half, her ankles hooked around each other above her head. Holding her legs in place with one hand, Steve proceeded to spank her ass with the other while he fucked her.

  When that just seemed to turn her on even further he moved up to her tits, smacking them around while he slammed into her. But that didn’t work either. She just smiled and grew even more wet down there.

  He then slapped her face a couple of times, and while this elicited a sharp gasp from Shyla’s mouth it also elicited another increase in the waterworks down below.

  “Is that all you got?” Shyla said, her voice mocking.

  Frustrated, Steve wrapped a hand around her throat. He stared down at her while he fucked her and choked her at the same time, waiting for her to break, but she just stared back, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he squeezed harder, restricting her breath but not cutting it off completely. Moments later she c
ame, shuddering and shimmying against him as her pussy gushed juicy goodness and swallowed his cock even further, which suddenly brought him right to the edge of orgasm himself.

  Cursing under his breath, Steve released his grip on her throat, pulled his cock from her pussy and grabbed ahold of her hair. He yanked her off the couch and pulled her head over towards him until her face was right in front of his cock.

  He ordered her to open her mouth, which she did. Then he stuck his cock in her mouth and with his hand still holding a fistful of her hair, proceeded to fuck her face. A few pumps later and he was pulling his cock out to shoot his load all over her face. Steve came liked he’d never cum before, three huge streams, spraying her face with his milky-white sperm, his load covering her entire face. She’d kept her mouth closed, saving her from that indignity, but his cum was everywhere else; chin, cheeks, nose, forehead, eyes, even getting some in her hair.

  “You’re right,” Shyla said. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  She started to climb up and go for the papers to be signed but Steve stopped her.

  “What?” she said.

  “Not yet,” Steve replied.

  “What do you mean, not yet? We fucked. You came. We’re done.”

  “Yes, we fucked, and yes I came, but we’re not done. The session’s not over. I’m ready to go again.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “You’ve never cum more than once in a day, let alone twice in a row.”

  “That was the old Steve,” he said. ‘This is the new one. See? My dick’s still hard. And I’m still ready to go.”

  “Too bad,” Shyla said.

  “For you, maybe,” Steve said.

  “You said one last fuck.”

  “I said one last fuck session. And last I checked, an orgasm didn’t end the session.”

  “Last I checked, it did.”

  “Bullshit,” Steve said. “I’ve seen you go for hours at a time with your new boyfriend, with not a single break in between. And I know he came more than once during those sessions. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  Shyla looked at him with a weird combination of anger and resignation. But the resignation was all that Steve cared about. It told him that she knew he was right. Which meant that he was going to get his way.

  “Fine,” she said. “But if you start to soften up at all, we’re done.”

  “Seems fair enough.”

  “Now can I go get a towel to wipe this stuff off my face?”

  “No,” Steve said. “Don’t touch it. I want to fuck you with my cum still on your face. I want it to remind me how much of a slut you really are.”

  A flash of pleasure skittered over Shyla’s face and Steve realized that she actually did enjoy getting treated like this. She was a true slut, through and through. Again he kicked himself for not taking advantage of it sooner. But at least he was taking care of it now. Better late than never.

  He flipped her over onto her hands and knees and went back to work.

  #

  Steve came twice more before the day was up, but that was nothing compared to Shyla, who came at least five more times by his count. Even when he got exactly what he wanted she still was able to get more out of it than he was. Their marriage in a nutshell.

  After the last romp they were sitting naked on the couch next to each other, sharing a cigarette, looking like they could have been a happy couple. Then they started talking.

  “If you would’ve fucked me like that earlier I wouldn’t have started cheating on you,” Shyla said.

  “If you hadn’t started cheating on me I would have never known you liked to get fucked like that,” Steve replied.

  “Well, maybe if you would’ve tried it you would’ve found out.”

  “Maybe if you ever sober enough to fuck me I would have tried,” Steve said.

  “Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t such an asshole I would have been sober more often.”

  “And if you weren’t such a bitch I wouldn’t have been such an asshole.”

  “Whatever,” Shyla said, standing up and grabbing the stack of papers from the table and handing them to Steve. “Just sign so we can end this relationship for good.”

  “Fine,” Steve said. “Just give me a pen and let’s get it over with.”

  Shyla reached into her purse, pulled one out and handed it to him.

  Steve flipped to the last page and scribbled onto the line that called for his signature. He closed the papers up and handed them to Shyla.

  Her relief was painted on her face as she folded the papers up without looking and stuffed them into her purse. Then she straightened herself out and without another word, turned and headed towards the front door.

  A couple seconds later the door closed. Steve leaned back in the couch, pleased with himself. Not only had he just stuck it to his wife, he had done so in more ways than one. Unless she was married to Mickey Mouse, the signature on her divorce papers wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on. Smiling, he turned the TV on and grabbed himself a beer. Life was good.

  #####

  MY LITTLE PLAYTHING

  CONFESSIONS OF AN ESCORT ADDICT: VOLUME TWO

  JT HOLLAND

  First off, let me state right up front that I love escorts. I’ve been using them since I was 18 and I don’t expect the practice to end anytime soon. People always ask me why don’t I have a conventional relationship. Paying for sex is just so . . . nasty, they say. To which I reply, that’s exactly why I do it. Sometimes I feel like a nasty guy and it’s a hell of a lot easier to get truly down and dirty with a woman that you don’t have to worry about seeing ever again, unless you specifically choose to. I mean, seriously, do you want to kiss your girlfriend the morning after you came in her mouth? Or have her rub her hands through your hair the morning after she had her finger in your ass? Okay, don’t answer that. Maybe you do. But I sure as hell don’t. No, I’d rather live with the memory of that perfect night in my head, forever untainted, than deal with the reality of spending the next day together as human beings. I love the animal aspects of sex, the grinding, the sweating, the willingness to do things that you’d never consider doing under the harsh light of day. But the human part, the dealing with feelings and emotions and all that? No thanks. I deal with enough of that as it is; at work, with my family and friends, hell, even just observing strangers causes more anxiety than I like to deal with. No, I want my sex straight up, with no chaser. I want to fuck like an animal, without restraint, without having to think about the consequences in the morning, without having to wake up in bed the morning with my partner beside me and be embarrassed, to wonder what she thinks of me, of whether or not she liked it as much as I thought she did. I want to live in my dream world. I want my escort. I want to fuck. And so do you. After all, that’s what you bought this story, right? To read about the nasty stuff? Not to hear me ramble. So here you go. Enjoy.

  She arrives at the door two minutes early, rings the bell. I looked out the peephole to check her out, my dick already hard in anticipation. The fish lens distorts her features just a bit, but nothing short of a circus funhouse mirror could have made her anything less than fucking perfect. She was done up exactly as I’d ordered: Short, platinum-hair in two pigtails, blue eye-shadow, cherry-red lipstick, her full, pouty lips turned up in a huge, innocent smile. Not too much makeup, showing off her lightly-freckled nose. She was even chewing gum, topping off the fantasy perfectly. Looking like she was straight out of high school, the epitome of my ideal girl when I was first hitting puberty.

  I open the door and let her in. She’s a tiny little spinner, no more than 5’2” and somewhere right around 90 pounds. A full foot shorter than me and less than half my weight. She’s wearing a skin tight, long-sleeved pink T-shirt that ends well above her belly button, showing off her small but firm tits and rock-hard nipples the size of pencil erasers, which are threatening to poke a hole through the material. Her tan, flat stomach leads to the ultra-short, cutoff jeans, which in turn lead to her tanned, skinny but sti
ll shapely legs, all the way to the sandals covering her tiny little feet.

  “So, what do you think?” she says, striking a pose. Her voice is bubbly, innocent. She plays the part like a pro. Which, of course, she is.

  “I think you’re perfect,” I say.

  Her smile widens. “Ahh, aren’t you sweet.” She sticks the tips of her finger in her mouth and giggles, then turns to check out the room. The frayed white ends of her jean shorts barely cover her tight, tiny ass. I can’t take my eyes off it. I can’t wait to see it in all its glory, bouncing on my cock

  “Quite a nice room you’ve got here,” she says.

  “You like it?” I say.

  “I love it. It’s so big.”

  She comes over and puts one arm around me and leans her head up against my chest. The top of her head barely reaches my chin. She drops her hand down to my crotch and looks up at me with a mischievous grin. “And it feels like you’ve got something else big waiting for me, too.”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  She giggles and slips out of her sandals. Then she turns around and gets up on her toes and presses the top of her ass against my crotch and starts to wiggle and shimmy. My cock is rock hard. It’s pressing up against my jeans as she rubs up and down against it.

  Smiling, she turns her head and looks up at me. “So what’s on the menu for tonight?”

  “Whatever you can take,” I say.

  “I can take whatever you can dish out,” she says.

  “We’ll see about that.” I say as I grab a fistful of her hair and spin her around so she’s facing me.

  She yelps; part pleasure, part surprise, part pain. “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?”

  “Yes it is,” I say.

  I place my hand on top of her head and start to push. Not gentle, not rough, just guiding her down. Showing her the way. She goes willingly. Knowingly. And then her head is right in front of my crotch. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, her teeth biting the corner of her bottom lip.

  “Is this what you like?” she says. “Pushing girls like me around? Making us do what you want?” There’s no malice in her voice, no fear. If anything there’s a bit of humor, as though she’s taunting me.