Soaking Wet

by Alex Algren

  I’m spread-eagled, wrapped around a tree and helpless. The muscles in my arms and stomach are being pulled to unbearable tautness as she works on me. I simply have to stand, spread and open, and let her impale my cunt repeatedly. I feel like I’m actually going to split down the middle but, despite myself, I can’t help trying to push against her insistent, plunging dick.

  “Oh, do you want some more?” She grabs me by the halfinch of hair on my head. “I’ll give you what you want.”

  Slicked wet from my cunt she pulls her dick back and then pushes it into my virgin arse. It hurts like hell, more than sherbet up your nose. This is definitely a boundary. I feel like I’m going to dissolve, that I can’t possibly bear her plunging in and out with long, hard strokes, or that I’ll explode. But my sphincter tightens around every move she makes.

  “That’s right. Milk my good, big dick.”

  I’m just about to start screaming when her hand works its way round and insinuates itself against my clit. The cool leather strokes against my hard clit as she fills my arse again and again. I can’t hold back and with my arse and clit being worked hard and my cunt empty and swollen to the night air I come so hard that all I can see is the rushing of red blood tissue before my eyes. It feels like she’s come inside me, violating me further, flooding my walls, but I know this can’t be true as it’s only her silicone dick that is now being edged slowly out of me.

  I sag against the tree as she plays the point of a knife up and down, up and down over my exposed flesh, before placing the handle in my hand. With difficulty I saw through the binding holding my wrists. Freed, I turn quickly round, rearranging my clothes. There is nothing but shadows and trees and bushes, a severed piece of leather and the rushing of the cold night air.

  BUSTED

  Sophie Mouette

  After the movie, Elle and I parked at the edge of the beach. It was too dark to see much except a hint of paler darknes where the surf hit the sand, but we cracked the windows so we could hear the crash of the waves and the murmur of the wind without getting too cold.

  I don’t think we intended for things to go as far as they did. I certainly hadn’t planned on it, but when her warm tongue entered my mouth and her warm hand crept beneath my shirt and found my lace-encased nipple, all rational thought fled, except for a momentary flash of pleased surprise.

  It seemed extra-naughty to be fooling around in a semipublic place with my girlfriend the cop.

  Making out in a car is never easy, but when you’re young and in lust and have been dating only three months, you make do and don’t care about pretzeled limbs. You pretty much don’t complain unless something cramps and you have to shake it out or scream.

  I wasn’t complaining. The briny air mingled with the tea tree scent of Elle’s shampoo as she kissed me, leaning across the console to where I sat in the driver’s seat. She had this ability to point her tongue and flick strongly, and when she did that against mine, I felt it all the way to my clit—where, sooner or later tonight, I’d feel her tongue for real.

  She scraped her fingernails across my nipple and it rose to hard, aching attention. I moaned against her talented mouth and, encouraged, she used her nails to pinch.

  Some of my friends laughed when granola-dyke me started dating a police officer, saying it was an obvious case of opposites attracting. But we really do have more in common than base physical urges. I like Elle’s taste in old movies and her ability to create a gourmet meal out of my poor excuse of a pantry; she confessed she was intrigued by my obsessions for Swedish heraldry and Italian greyhounds.

  So let ’em laugh. At least I was getting some.

  And I wanted more. Needed more. I climbed over into her seat to straddle her, whacking my knee against the gearshift and almost elbowing her in the eye in the process. The bruises (for me, at least) didn’t matter. It seemed like her hands were everywhere, encouraging me: first on my breasts, then running up and down my back; high on my thighs, tangled in my hair.

  I was getting so wet, so hot. I managed to insinuate one of my legs between hers, which meant that one of hers was between mine, and I ground against it as best I could in the confines. I’m a tiny thing, but she’s tall and lanky and mostly leg—which helped.

  She pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it somewhere, then rained a line of tiny nips along my collarbone as I gasped from the sudden sensations. She roughly pulled the bra cups down so she had direct access to my breasts. I moaned as she suckled one, kneaded the other.

  Her cardigan separated as I pulled on it, and at least one button popped, disappearing between the seats to be lost forever. Oops. Beneath it, she was braless, which was no doubt why all the men had been staring at her tonight. Her luscious breasts were pale in the darkness, and although I couldn’t get my mouth down on them, I did my best with my hands to return the favors she was giving me.

  I’m not really clear on how we got me out of my jeans. My thong, Elle just pushed aside. It was mostly useless by now anyway; I could smell myself in the steamy confines of the car.

  “My little firebomb,” Elle whispered as her fingers sought my wetness. “You are just insatiable.”

  I couldn’t form a coherent answer. She buried two fingers in my folds, pressed them up into me. I clamped down on them, desperate for release. The combination of thrusting fingers and the thumb she had pressed against my clit and her mouth clamped on my aching nipple was overwhelming. So many sensations, driving me further to the edge.

  I crashed over into orgasm, grinding myself against her hand. I clutched the headrest with one hand and pounded against the car’s ceiling with the other. “Fuck, yes!”

  And that’s when a bright light shone in the window and a strident male voice said, “All right, kids, let’s break it up in there.”

  It was the voice rather than the light that caught my attention, largely because my bare ass was facing the window, giving the officer a fine view. I pulled my bra up, and tumbled sideways into the driver’s seat, my feet still tangled in my jeans. The action revealed Elle’s breasts in all their glory. She yanked the edges of the cardigan together, but not before the cop outside got a nice eyeful.

  Shit. Cop.

  I’d been caught making out in a car before. Even caught by a cop. But never with a cop herself. Never when one of my partner’s coworkers, essentially, was watching.

  Crap.

  I reached behind my seat and flailed around for my shirt.

  “Jesus, MacIntyre.” Elle’s voice sounded annoyed rather than embarrassed. She rolled down the window a little farther and glared up at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “Tudor, is that really you?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said, trying to button her sweater in the dark. (Lucky her. Even with the missing button. My shirt had apparently been sucked into a black hole.) “I thought you had the night off.”

  “Nah, I’m trying to get in as much overtime as I can before the baby comes.” He chuckled. “Lucky me. Wait ’til I tell—”

  “You’re not going to tell anyone, MacIntyre. The word will get back to Debbie that you saw me naked, and she’s got pregnant-woman hormones right now….”

  His face fell. “Damn, you’re right. Oh well.” As he turned to go, he added a “Hey, Destiny,” in my direction.

  In silence, as if we were both holding our breaths, we listened to his car door slam and the motor rev to life.

  “Elle, I’m so sorry…”

  To my amazement, she busted out laughing.

  “It’s all right,” she said when she could finally talk over the wild whoops and guffaws. “Did you see his face?”

  “You mean as he was ogling my tits? You owe me a new shirt, by the way.” (She didn’t, really, but I figured I’d keep my options open. Never turn down the opportunity for new clothes.)

  “Destiny, it was priceless! Poor guy couldn’t figure out where to look. He was really embarrassed.”

  “He was embarrassed? It’s not like his
ass was on display for the world to see.”

  She laughed again. “I don’t know about that. It’s one thing to be ogling seminaked strangers; it’s another to realize you were ogling your coworker and her girlfriend.”

  I gave up on the search for my shirt (a bra doesn’t show any more than a bikini top, right?) and started the car. Before we got very far, Elle was laughing again.

  “You should have seen his face, Des. His eyes were like dinner plates. I think he’d been watching awhile before he turned on the flashlight…and then saw the one person on the force who can consistently best him at target practice.”

  This time I managed to laugh as well. I hadn’t been so embarrassed since I was in junior high school and Julia Ruiz discovered I had pictures of actresses in my locker instead of boy-band members, but it was pretty damn funny. And as I was laughing, something dawned on me.

  The way I was squirming wasn’t just from embarrassment. Some little part of me was turned on, not so much by what actually happened as by images running through my head.

  I wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to say something. I finally choked out, “Too bad it was MacIntyre.”

  “If someone had to catch us, he’s perfect. He’s a good guy, and he’s so scared of doing anything to upset Debbie right now that he’ll keep it quiet.”

  “Yeah, but he’s still a guy. A man catching us is just embarrassing. A woman catching us and watching for a while—that might have been hot.” My voice kind of trailed off at the last bit.

  Elle made a funny choking noise. “What?”

  “I said it might have been hot.” I looked away, focusing completely on the road, not quite able to meet her eyes after that admission.

  “Hm. Sounds like somebody’s a bit of an exhibitionist…”

  I couldn’t tell from the tone of her voice whether that was a good thing or not. We hadn’t been together long enough for sharing our wilder fantasies to come easily. Had I found a limit?

  I figured the answer out pretty quickly, though, when I felt her hand brush my nipple.

  “So, my darling Destiny likes the idea of a stranger watching her getting off?” she said, still chuckling a bit, but in a throaty, sexy way now. I arched my back, pushing my breast toward her palm.

  “I guess so. Bit of a surprise for me, too,” I admitted.

  “Really?” She captured my nipple between two strong fingers and I temporarily lost the ability to speak. Not so much from arousal—although all my blood seemed to have diverted from my brain to my nipple and from there to my clit—as from shock. Elle was not the sort to grope me while I was driving. In a parked car, sure, but not while the car was actually moving. She’d seen too many gruesome car accidents to distract the driver—and I was certainly distracted. I gripped the wheel a little tighter, because much as I wanted to return the favor with interest, I was afraid of what might happen if I let my attention, or my hands, wander.

  “I like it too,” she went on. “I like the idea that someone saw me making you scream. I like the idea that someone else got to see how goddamn beautiful you are when I’m driving you crazy.” She twisted the nipple. “That makes me hot.”

  I was writhing in my seat, amazed that attention to my nipple was doing as much as it was. Sure, my nipples are sensitive, but not normally to the point of me soaking my jeans with juice because of a little tweaking. Especially not right after I’d just come.

  It was a good thing my house wasn’t too much further. Between arousal and giggle-fits over MacIntyre’s expression, I was rapidly becoming a road hazard.

  Usually when we end up at my place, we take Lorenzo and Lucrezia, my spoiled little greyhounds, for a walk. That night we barely had the patience to let them run around the fencedin yard and do their business. As they zipped around the yard, Elle and I were stripping each other’s clothes off, enjoying the naughtiness of getting naked outside. Not that anyone could really see over the privacy fence unless they were on the neighbor’s roof—it was the principle of the thing.

  What if they were on the roof? What if they were watching? The fantasy added to the excitement.

  Elle all but threw me onto the bed. “You are a far naughtier girl than I knew, Destiny,” she said.

  “How do you feel about being fucked by a really naughty girl?” I reached into the back of the toy drawer, groped a bit, and pulled out the big red strap-on with the dragon-shaped head. We’d still been having so much fun with hands and tongues that we hadn’t played with the toy collection much yet, but tonight seemed like the perfect time for Mr. Fiery to come out.

  Elle blinked as if mildly confused as she watched me adjust the belt around my hips. Then a slow grin lit her face. “That thing rocks! Thank you, Venus!” she exclaimed. “You sent me the woman of my dreams!” She pulled me close to her into a long, deep kiss.

  Such a long, deep kiss; such a sultry kiss, that it almost changed our plan, because it led to more kissing, and from there to nibbling, and from nibbling to stroking—the kind of progression that made old-fashioned parochial schoolteachers say that French kissing causes pregnancy. Not that it would do that in our case, but anyway…I got so distracted I almost forgot the strap-on was even there.

  Elle subtly reminded me by rolling me over onto my back and sinking onto the toy.

  “Oh yeah,” she moaned. “Why didn’t you use this on me before?”

  “Seems like you’re using it on yourself,” I said. “Not that I’m complaining. What a great view.” And it was a great view; her long, lean body crouched over me, rocking back and forth.

  “No better than MacIntyre got of you,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “How much do you think he really saw?”

  “Who knows? I just like…” Her voice broke off and she began to grind her hips against me, getting my clit involved in the action from the pressure. I grabbed her hips, moved her in the way I knew I’d want to be moved in her position. Not coincidentally, it was good for me as well and for a little while any attempt at talking was impossible. We weren’t quite at the screaming point yet, but we were certainly getting close.

  After she caught her breath a little, Elle picked up the sentence where she’d been forced to leave off. “I like the idea of someone watching. Or maybe more the idea of you getting off on being watched. Because you do get off on it, don’t you?”

  She reached down between our bodies so she was touching both our clits. At the same time she did something with her hips that obviously was very, very good for her.

  She arched backward, her hand still stroking both our clits. I could see her ab muscles quivering.

  “You get off on that idea, Destiny—and I get off on how much you like it.” I swore I could feel her contractions, although that didn’t make a lot of sense through a silicone dick.

  And then everything collided—the stimulation from earlier; the idea that MacIntyre was riding out on his lonely patrol with a big hard-on, thinking about us; Elle’s hand caressing me; Elle’s beautiful body riding me; the scent and heat and slickness of her; her excitement.

  Stars, I thought before all thought became impossible. You really can see stars when it’s this good.

  Friday night, I got a phone call from a desolate-sounding Elle. “I know we had plans tonight, sweetie,” she said, “but we’re shorthanded today and I drew the short straw to cover the late shift.”

  Safe behind a closed door in my office, I cursed volubly. We didn’t just have plans for the night. We had positively evil, depraved plans.

  “I’m bummed too,” she said, “but I do have an idea that’ll get us through until I can get to your place.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Around ten o’clock, go into the bedroom and start playing with yourself. I’ll be thinking of you then, picturing what you’re doing to yourself and getting all hot. Will you do that for me?”

  My pussy clenched. “You bet!”

  “And then I’ll be off shift around two
and wake you up in the nicest possible way.”

  She hung up, leaving me blushing and somewhat damp.

  Wow. Elle and I were still very much on a classic New Relationship High, but for the last couple of days the sexual tension had been running even higher and this pushed it further yet. I flashed back to the incident in the car. The embarrassment had faded by now, burned away by amusement that our encounter with MacIntyre had ended up sparking so much lust.

  I could hardly wait until ten o’clock to get started. Okay, let’s be honest. I didn’t exactly wait—nothing wrong with a bit of warm-up, right? I decided to save my actual orgasm for when I knew Elle would be thinking about me, but I curled up with a collection of erotica and teased myself over and over. By ten, I was aquiver, more than ready to explode and send all kinds of lust through the ether to Elle.

  I opened the curtains in the darkened bedroom to get a view of the moon peeking up over the privacy fence, cracked the window for some air and settled down in the comfy chair facing the window. The bed might have been a more logical choice, but I felt closer to Elle looking out into the night where she was. Besides, no one could see in the window without opening the locked gate and entering the backyard—but given the fantasies Elle and I had been swapping lately, I could admit I liked imagining that someone might. I spread my legs, closed my eyes and began to diddle.

  I’d grabbed my favorite dildo out of the toy drawer just in case, but decided to start with just fingers and imagination. I pictured Elle, stuck two fingers into my dripping pussy, imagined they were her fingers finding my G-spot, imagined her voice whispering hot, filthy things in my ear.

  I was so primed that I felt myself starting to quiver almost instantly with those little shivers and contractions that lead up to the final explosion. So close, so hot…

  And then a harsh light penetrated my eyelids. I jumped, opened my eyes to the flare of a big Mag-Lite. What the fuck? I scrambled, attempted to cover myself. Burglar?