Engaged (The ABCs of Erotica)

by Maxxwell, Lexi

I think about what Richard said, and what he didn’t. He had to be thinking of Zoe. I wonder if that’s who threatens him most.

  Though conflicted, some of me loves Richard for giving me what he’ll know I’ll probably want later. I’ll leave the house wanting to come home, and return later, glad to be back. The time in between is a brittle forest and a match.

  It isn’t necessary. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been. I owe Richard everything. If he hadn’t entered my life when he had, I would have faded, grown number than I was. I came home from Europe clean, but just barely.

  Neither of us believes in monogamy, and are both religious with honesty. I’d never leave a man for saying, “I’ll be right back, Dear. I’m going fucking!” But I’d leave in a blink if he said he was going out for a beer, went fucking instead, and didn’t have the courtesy (or courage) to tell me about the load he left once home.

  I swipe my glass dildo up and down my pussy, softly, slowly, hearing Richard’s whispers in my head: be patient, go slower. I listen to the whisper, forcing my hand into a molasses of motion as I twirl my dildo in circles.

  I cry out. My asshole clenches. I spread my pussy lips, wedge the dildo deeper lengthwise, and stir harder.

  Memories crash. I start thinking about my past, and the yesterdays Richard wants me to explore.

  Cooper — the first boy to pet my pussy. Or to lick my nipples before they were what they are now, full and ripe. Leigh after that. I was fleeing from Cooper’s antics and mischief. He was only a boy when I wanted more. I thought I was cool, fucking a girl. Letting her taste me. She wasn’t true, like Zoe.

  I hungered for Cooper — he was the first — and Leigh after that. But unlike either of them or the many to follow before her, I loved Zoe.

  Zoe crushed me. I left for Europe as an urn full of ashes.

  Parting made me want to die, and so I fled.

  I found Sasha and Hope. They entertained me enough to pretend that I could forget. But even at their best, they were nothing like her. Zoe haunts me most.

  I turn the dildo in my hand so the ball is on the bottom and the bulbous head is at the top. I spread my lips wider, brace my body for entry, and ease it into my pussy.

  I stick the dildo inside me: one, two, three, four, five times, gripping tightly in my left hand while rubbing my tits with my right.

  I add my second hand to the glass cock, and hold it like a two-handed sword, pushing it deeper, to the first band. I plunge. Fast, then faster, whimpering, trying to keep Richard in mind as a 100 memories crowd to the front.

  I thrust the glass dick in and out, alternating between rubbing my clit in circles, and flicking it swiftly, never pushing the glass past its ridges, faster and faster as I’m closer to cumming.

  Again I wonder what Richard is thinking, sending me out into the world like he is. I hope he’s right, and fuck myself faster. I catch my reflection. My face is bright-pink, just like my pussy.

  I’m ready to cum.

  I rub myself faster, matching speed with plunging, not holding back.

  I cum hard, and as I’m cumming slip the dildo deeper into my cunt.

  I cum again, much harder.

  I scream so loud I know that Richard can hear me. And I’m not even trying.

  I bounce up from the bottom. The water is shallow and our tub deep. Some spills over the side. I shake water like an earthquake.

  My body’s barely mine, humming with a life all its own.

  I fuck the glass like a dick, shoving my pussy against it, lifting up and down on the porcelain, fast, slow, however I need it.

  I finish and settle, sinking into the water and letting it wash all over my shoulders. I listen to silence.

  Richard is gone. I can feel when he’s home. Now I feel nothing.

  He wants me to go. Leaving is hard, later may be impossible. He doesn’t want me to cry, or call him names.

  I hate him for leaving, but of course I am glad.

  He knows me well.

  I hope he’s right, and that the road I’ll take next is the one I’m most supposed to follow, because it will lead back to him.

  I pull the juiced glass from my pussy and set it between my tits.

  It sets on my skin as I think about where I should go, and when I should go there. If he’s not here I won’t stay. I have places to go, starting with Leigh.

  Seconds With My First

  I hang up with Leigh, smiling.

  It’s odd to call her, but I’m already glad. Whether Richard’s right or wrong, about us and my needs, I’ll play like he wants while I figure it out.

  It makes sense, starting with Leigh.

  “Well, Christ on a cross in heaven!” she said, answering on the third ring.

  “I think it’s one or the other, not both at the same time.” I said, relieved that her number hadn’t changed. I didn’t want to chase Leigh on Facebook, or give her time to think.

  “You ever think about fucking me?” I said, before hello.

  She laughed. “All the time, Liza. All the time. So, what are you up to, and should I be nervous?”

  “No,” I said, still laughing through my smile. “I’m getting married.”

  “No?” Disbelief in her voice: “Liza Elway’s getting married?”

  “I am.”

  “So you’re calling to invite me?”

  “You can come,” I laughed, “but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “When’s the wedding?” she asked, ignoring my question.

  “Soon. No date. He asked me yesterday. I have to take care of stuff first.”

  “Like what?” I can tell by Leigh’s tone: She has the idea. “Things like me?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Like old times?”

  “Like old times.”

  “You’re in town.” She sounds hopeful.

  “Yes. I live here now.”

  “Great. Remember Nate’s old place?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m living there now. How soon can you get here?”

  “An hour.”

  “I’m already wet,” she said.

  So was I.

  I was in my Audi a few minutes later.

  Now I’m staring into Leigh’s eyes. She is more beautiful than I remember, more stunning than expected. She’s on her knees in bed. I’m inches away and staring.

  I lean in, kiss her, then draw back to stare some more.

  She’s hungry and wanting, loves that I’m making her wait, and filling our minutes with longing gazes. Leigh knows she’s gorgeous. It’s in her confident smile and blazing, light-brown eyes.

  Leigh was always beautiful — pretty enough to make me wonder if I could like girls, then later proved that I could. Now she’s ravishing. She’s grown into her features, and wears them better than ever. In high school, she covered her freckles in makeup. Now she wears them proudly. Her mouth is perfectly large on her smallish face. I picture her putting it on my pussy like she used to on Thursdays before history.

  I need her, and again feel angry at Richard for pushing me to want something other than him.

  I take her hands as we stare. Leigh’s in a thin, white top, no panties or bra. Her tits push against thin cotton, making me want them in my mouth.

  I’m in teal panties and a matching cami.

  We both must be soaking.

  I lean into kiss her again. She smiles under my lips. I pull away, no words are needed between us.

  I take her top and pull it down over her tits. Her breasts are even more beautiful than I remember: fuller and larger. I have to touch, fondle, and feel them in my mouth. But like Richard, Leigh makes me wait.

  She pulls away, grabs my top by the bottom, and gently tugs it up over my head. I’m in nothing but panties as we kiss. Too hungry to stay at her lips, I fall to her breasts.

  I clamp my lips to Leigh’s nipple. She sighs, groans, and arches her back, pushing herself deeper into my mouth. She reaches behind her, plants her hands on the bed, and pushes up harder a
s I suckle.

  I tease her right nipple with my teeth as I fondle her breast, pull away, lick several times, and fall back on my heels to stare up at Leigh.

  She takes her turn: kisses my cheek, chin and shoulder, then falls to my breasts, circling her tongue at the nipple, and wedging my flesh into her mouth.

  She moves to the other. Now I’m aching, ready to beg.

  I strip Leigh’s shirt, and scoot back on the bed. We lie naked together, breathing, waiting as I sweep her body with my hands.

  Leigh’s skin is electric. Like once upon a time, she needs me.

  As Richard requested, I give to her fully, smiling at her swollen breasts and hard nipples as I slither down her body, brushing Leigh’s flesh with my long, soft hair, and making her shiver.

  She leans back, and presses her head into the pillow. Her mouth is open, expectant and moaning.

  I tug off her panties. She wiggles — squirms — eagerly from them, parting her legs to make room for me. I fall onto Leigh’s body and press my lips against her. We kiss for a moment, then I slither back down her lithe frame.

  I press my lips to her stomach, and look up, pausing between her legs. My tongue rolls out of my mouth, ready to flick her.

  My skin’s hot and pussy wet. I can’t expect to be filled like I would be with Richard, but Leigh will give me harmony. No matter how well intended — or gifted — a man might be, only a woman knows what sex, arousal, and orgasm feel like for another like her.

  I lick Leigh slowly, spreading her lips with the tips of my fingers. I taste her. Her pussy is sweeter than I remember, or expect. It’s been a while since I’ve had pussy in my mouth. I’ve not tasted a woman in a while, except for the sweet me I lick from the glaze that slicks Richard’s cock. He loves to slide out of my pussy and dip into my mouth. I love to taste him.

  I stop flicking, and press my tongue to Leigh’s swollen lower lips. I drag my tits against the sheets, lifting my ass high as I dig between Leigh’s legs, pushing my tongue deeper into her folds.

  Leigh’s legs lightly shake. Her stomach is sunken. She fondles herself, brushing fingers over her nipples, eyes closed as I work.

  I press my palms to Leigh’s inner thighs and push, widening her part and lending more room to my face. I glance up and smile. Her eyes are closed, she cannot see me. Her arms lose their spot at her breasts, fly up over her head, and grab at the pile of pillows behind her.

  I tease her with my tongue, flicking her faster with my tip as she squirms and moans. I love Leigh’s bald cunt. I think of Richard and his soft skin. I banish the thought to focus on Leigh, the first girl I ever played with, and the one who’s with me now.

  I start sucking her faster, remembering how it once was between us. In school, we’d play, and try sneaking off where no one could find us. Senior year — when I hated Cooper — we spent so many weekends alone in her room. I used to wonder if Leigh’s parents knew what we were doing, and figured they did. She said her dad would rather see her happy with a girl than miserable with a guy.

  Like old times, I’m bent between her legs, dipped low with my face in Leigh’s cunt. Sounds and scent fight for my focus.

  I stop sucking and kiss her pussy like a mouth, teasing with small circles outside, until I slip two fingers in, just past the tip.

  I crawl up to kiss her. She opens her eyes, hungry.

  I pull away from her mouth, and love that she wants me. She looks different, more like a woman and less like a girl. I reach to her side, and grab Leigh’s white, plastic “wand.”

  “Have you ever used one of these?” she had asked, shortly after she opened her door, but before we were down to our panties.

  “No.” I took the wand from Leigh to stare at its white shaft. “What is it?”

  “What do you think it is?” she had laughed.

  “Well, I know what it is. I’ve just never seen one quite like it.”

  “I call it the wand. It’s not a wand like the electric kind, but it is totally magic. A gift from my ex, Carli. You’ve never felt anything like it.”

  “How is it different?”

  “It’s like the world’s fattest finger,” Leigh said. “Swollen in the middle. Slips in easy to fill you.”

  I said I couldn’t wait to try it. Now we were.

  I place the wand against Leigh’s lips. She licks it, wetting it so that I can easily slide it inside her — not that she’s in need of the lube.

  Leigh has fun with her licking, then sets the wand between us. I add my tongue to the play. We lick from our sides, each pretending the finger’s an ivory dick we’ll be sharing between us, rather than a plastic dildo I’m about to plunge into her pussy.

  This is fun. Richard and I rarely use toys. He says they’re for people who don’t know how to fully use their bodies. He’s right, but that doesn’t make them any less fun.

  “I’ve missed you,” Leigh giggles.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” I say, realizing it’s true.

  I run the wand up and down her lips, a few times in each direction, then push the finger’s head into her hole.

  Leigh moans and flexes around the wand. I pull it out, covered in her juices. Groaning, Leigh lifts her ass from the bed and presses her pussy against the wand, pushing it deeper. I look up and see Leigh looking down. Her swollen breasts, puffy nipples, wide-open mouth, and gorgeous, brown eyes, flecked with green from the sun’s light that spills through the window — it all makes me want her.

  I can’t imagine the size of my smile as I plunge her faster and deeper, getting off on the sounds of Leigh’s pleasured heaving, her trembling pussy, and the scent of her cunt, ripe right under my nose.

  I wedge the wand deeper, a millimeter per plunge, until it is buried to the handle, just under my knuckles. I look up, find Leigh’s eyes, smile, then push it the remainder of the way so my knuckles are pressed against her glistening folds. I start licking Leigh’s clit at the top.

  Her hands are curled tight into the bed sheets. She yanks them toward her. I’m flat on the bed, breasts to the sheets, writhing against the mattress, teasing my cunt while I satisfy Leigh’s.

  She moans harder and faster. I need her screaming.

  I lift from the bed, moving so I’m above her, looking down on Leigh’s soaking hole, juicing the wand as I push it inside her. I switch the wand to my left hand, holding steady, adding two fingers to her folds, just above the wand, rubbing tight circles that mirror my thrusting.

  Leigh screams and explodes all over my hand.

  Juice glazes my knuckles as she hollers. I continue to plunge.

  Leigh reaches back, grabs the headboard, and uses her other hand to maul her own tits. She’s yelling and screaming, begging me to go faster, then pleading with me to stop.

  I’m laughing, unwilling to slow, enjoying her pleasure. So different from Richard’s, more like my own.

  I send Leigh into another orgasm. She soaks my face.

  I love her sounds, and long to make some of my own.

  Soon.

  Leigh finishes, and shudders to a wonderful still. I blush her with kisses on her quivering lips while waiting for her body to quiet, then rise from between her legs. We kiss.

  With one hand on her leg, just above the knee, and the other on her opposite shoulder, I taste her. Just as she is tasting me.

  She puts her flattened fingers on top of my panty-covered cunt and starts rubbing me over the fabric. I softly kiss her, pushing my pelvis against her hand until I’m starting to whimper.

  Leigh smiles, pulls off my panties, and drops them in a pile beside her own.

  She reaches my pussy with a whisper.

  Leigh starts slowly like I did, short flicks darting into my middle, before going faster, harder, and deeper. She parts my pussy lips, and wedges her tongue into my center. I close my eyes, grab my knees — one per palm — and pull my legs toward me.

  I moan, luxuriating in her tongue as Leigh starts lapping me faster, sponging attention at the top of my clit and fi
lling my body with shivers. She’s bent on all fours, her ass in the air.

  Leigh draws back, pulling her face from my pussy so she can do a better job with her fingers. She rubs me hard until I am begging.

  “Stop it, Leigh,” I pant. “Put them in me.”

  “How many do you want?”

  I remember the first time we went from one finger to two, how amazing it felt, almost as good as when we went from two to three.

  “All of them,” I pant.

  Purring, Leigh says, “How about starting with one?” then slips her middle digit knuckle deep into my hole.

  My pussy clenches her finger as I whimper.

  She turns her digit, like a key in a lock, then resumes her thrusting. She is fast, and I’m screaming. Leigh adds a second finger, kisses me, thrusts until I cum, then slows through my descent.

  I need to feel the wand inside me. I saw what it had done inside her.

  Reading my mind, Leigh says, “Do you want the toy?”

  I do.

  I whimper consent and spread my legs wider. She’s back between them a moment later, wand in hand. She presses her fingers deeper around my middle, spreads my hole, then stuffs it inside me.

  Leigh isn’t slow or fast, turning the toy as she eases it in to make me feel every inch of the plunge. I reach down to diddle my clit. She pushes the wand deeper into me than I did into her — all the way so only the tip is showing: a dot of white peeking from my soaking-wet pink.

  My body is raw. One well-placed whisper could make me cum.

  Leigh rises to kiss me, not stopping or slowing her work with the wand on her way to my mouth. Her tits hang low and heavy, swinging beneath her gorgeous body.

  “Make me cum again,” I command her.

  She smiles and complies, pulling away and shoving the wand inside my hole.

  “Use your fingers!” Leigh screams.

  I do, rubbing furious circles at the top of my clit as Leigh fucks me hard and fast with the wand.

  She laughs as I cum.

  I scream as she laughs.

  I lose count of everything: minutes, memories, the number of times I’ve cum. I don’t remember why I’m here, away from my Richard. I’m hurled through paper walls of pleasure, rubbing myself as Leigh fucks me. She’s whispering filth in my ear so I can barely hear it over my own screaming, making me wonder how much — if any — of this is in my mind.