Naughty Gras: Tales of Fat Tuesday

by Sable Jordan, Jessa Callaver, Perri Forrest, The KWEEN

  “Not to me.” The angel caressed Tayden’s cheek. “To her.” In her other hand was a compact, the circular mirror angled to reflect Tayden’s face.

  Tayden’s brow knit. She jumped when the man smoothed his palm across the small of her back and stayed.

  And then it started.

  In the mirror, memory after memory flew by depicting every transgression.

  Tayden in college, surfing the web, wondering what it would feel like to have two men at once…or a man and a woman… Keeping her fingers on the keys and ignoring the ache in her pussy. It’d go away. Finish your paper.

  Tayden sneaking glances at a girl in her Psych class. What did she taste like…there? The thoughts were so wrong. Stop having them.

  Tayden getting coffee from a street vendor. The java truck was across the way from an adult toy store. She should go in…but people might see her and then, well, they’d know… Not today.

  Tayden in bed. Her boyfriend snored beside her, sated after their lovemaking. She stared at the ceiling, drumming her hands on her belly, the taste of his jizz still on her tongue. Tomorrow she’d tell him that she hadn’t come; that she hadn’t come the time before that either. That she’d never had an orgasm. No, really, she’d tell him this time.

  Tayden moaning, legs wrapped around her boyfriend’s waist as he drove into her and stilled. He rolled away, asking “Good for you?” with all the interest of ordering tacos. Tell him. Be honest. No. No it wasn’t good for me. She smiled and nodded. He went to sleep.

  Tayden at home late at night—her boyfriend now her ex and long gone—working on a story or chasing down a lead. She’d get around to visiting that toy store. One day.

  Neglect. Dismissal. Suppression.

  Every victim was Tayden.

  Every culprit was Tayden.

  Sinner.

  Tears dripped from her chin. She stared into the reflected face, the eyelids heavy and mouth parted. Color suffused her cheeks, chestnut hair hung wild about her shoulders. That woman—lusty and beautiful and confident in her sexuality—was a complete stranger to her.

  They needed to meet.

  “I confess,” Tayden said to the mirror, meaning it to her very core. “I’m a liar. A sinner.”

  Compact tossed aside, the angel kissed Tayden’s mouth. “Repent.” She kissed her again, and Tayden returned it unabashedly, pushing her tongue against the softness inside. Without breaking away, Tayden shrugged off the coat, kissed over the woman’s chin; dragged her mouth down the slender neck.

  The angel lay back on the table, and Tayden followed her down, licking and sucking every inch of her hot flesh. Tiny whimpers erupted from the woman’s throat. Tayden pushed her nose between her parted thighs and inhaled. Damp and musky.

  She tasted even better. Like heaven come to earth. Tayden dragged the flat of her tongue over the weeping slit and then slid the tip inside. The other woman moaned, curving her hips upward for more, squeezing Tayden’s tongue. Tayden happily obliged. Tongue on the woman’s clit, Tayden shook her head quickly, alternating between rough contact and barely-there swipes on the hard bud.

  Her angel moaned.

  The masked man pushed her skirt up to her waist and pulled her panties down, bringing a draft across Tayden’s naked rear. He kneaded her cheeks, gave one a little slap, and then pressed his thumb into her wetness. The digit slipped in easily, and he shoved in to the hilt, rubbing the pad against her front walls.

  Oh, god!

  Tayden whimpered into the pussy in her face, shoved her tongue deeper into the milky hole. Her hands skimmed up the woman’s soft body; nails dug into the flesh as she raked her fingers back down. Then something cold and hard was pushed inside her and Tayden paused.

  “You wanted beads,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  She did. Much as it embarrassed her to admit, Tayden envied the women bold enough to flash their tits for trinkets on Bourbon Street. Talk about confident and free. She spread her legs as far as the panties at her ankles would stretch, twisted her head back to catch glimpses of the man behind her. He took the second gold marble from the table and guided it inside.

  Tayden clamped down on his fingers as the Ben Wa balls gliding over her stimulated walls. A subtle but delicious sensation. He pistoned his digits in and out of her before gripping her hair and shoving her face back between the other woman’s legs.

  Hot damn, did she like this! Tayden slowed her pace, lightly kissed the crease where the angel’s leg and pelvis met. The cool tickle of lube trickled down Tayden’s ass and she paused again.

  No one had been there before.

  And then that wasn’t true anymore. He slowly breached her puckered bud, just one finger, not too painful once it was in. He went deeper—her hole stretched a bit wider—went deeper still. Just how long was his finger?

  Not his finger.

  Anal beads. Each purple sphere larger than the one preceding it. The textured shaft produced a sensation Tayden had never experienced before, but she’d definitely be doing it again. He reversed course by just one bead and her eyes widened. Amazing.

  The beads plunged deeper. The last couple were much bigger than the first, and with her virgin hole being so tight, it took some work to get them all in. But she got her beads. The man gripped her hair again, directing her motions over the petal pink flesh of the woman in front of her, the head of his cock nestled just at Tayden’s slit.

  He surged forward and Tayden gasped; drew back and slammed home.

  She arched her back to take all of him, very much aware of the Ben Wa balls rolling around in her pussy and the pressure in her ass too. Never had it been like this.

  Hands on her hips to guide her, he took full control of the pace, pulling her back onto his cock and pushing her forward into the angel’s slippery folds. Tayden licked and sucked and moaned—god, did she moan—hands gripping the other woman’s thighs in order to hold on. She was just on the edge when she felt the man’s cock harden inside her.

  Tayden sucked the hard clit into her mouth, tongue shuttling over the woman’s nub. The man kept pushing, long strokes becoming short, rapid-fire jabs. Their skin slapped loudly, and he dug deeper, went higher, shifting the balls inside her and bringing her to a mind-numbing climax.

  “Oh, god! Oh, god!” Tayden moaned, mouth flooding with sweetness as the angel cried out. Soft hands in her hair held her in place as the woman rolled her hips against Tayden lips.

  The man behind her stabbed forward and stayed, grunting loudly as he emptied his hot fluid inside her. He pulled out, dropped to his knees and fingered her clit.

  Tayden’s legs quaked, threatening to buckle. She didn’t know if she could take any more.

  And then he tugged on the string of balls in her ass.

  Oh. My. God!

  The pace was so different from what had just gone before, slow and deliberate. He pulled one free, causing a tiny explosion in both her ass and her cunt. His thumb slipped through her wetness, pressed down on her clit as one more ball was removed.

  “Please,” she whimpered. For him to go or stop, she couldn’t be sure. It felt so…good.

  He played with the next one, tugging and tugging but not pulling it free. She begged and the balls went back in. He slapped her flank and her legs wobbled.

  She was so wrong before. This was how she’d die!

  She curled her fingers into the woman’s thighs, turned her face into the angel’s hands.

  “Do you believe?” the man asked.

  Believe?

  Now really wasn’t the time to ask deep, existential questions. Tayden could scarcely formulate a response when a ball popped free.

  Her orgasm built quickly, release hovering just out of reach.

  A ball jerked out; another jolt raced through her.

  “Do you believe?”

  How could he ask that so calmly when she was on the verge of exploding? Tayden didn’t know, the sensation at the back of her mind too wispy to hold on to, especially given her current preo
ccupation.

  Another bead. The room filled with the sloppy sounds of his fingers in her pussy; a river ran down her thigh. He moved faster, pressed harder. Then he replaced his fingers with his tongue.

  Holy…

  He lapped up her juices, swirled over her aching clit slowly. Tayden rode his tongue, each turn of her hips shifted the little balls inside her. Suddenly, it was all too much to hold on to. Another sphere came free.

  And then, she was flying.

  “Yes,” she sobbed, head pressed to the angel’s warm belly. “I believe. I believe!”

  The man tugged the least bead out and she came again, a full-body release that nearly ended her. Screams echoed in the room, the shudder wracking her body so hard Tayden’s eyes popped open.

  A big, gray pocket filled her vision, a magazine stuffed into the compartment. Her eyes adjusted, and she made out the picture in the ad on the page.

  The Hamilton Cigar Cutter, shaped like a guillotine. Available in walnut, beech wood, or cherry wood for the very reasonable price of $69.99. Higher up, the tightly stretched gray fabric of the seat back. A soft boop sliced through the white noise that surrounded her.

  Surrounded them.

  Oh…

  Her focus shifted to the thin blanket draping her shoulders. Beneath that, a black sports coat. It smelled smoky and chocolaty, and definitely wasn’t hers. She was curled up on her side, something hard and metallic digging into her breast. Tayden rocked forward and muscle firmed beneath her head at the same time strong fingers stroked through her hair, down her cheek.

  …My…

  Something lurched her forward again and a wicked giggle filtered through the recycled air.

  “Stop kicking that seat!” a feminine voice warned.

  …God!

  Tayden bolted upright, wedged her back into the corner where the plane’s seat met the window. Earbuds dangled around her neck, the Foo Fighters crooned about stranger things happening.

  “Sorry he woke you,” the woman said from the row behind her. “He can be a little rambunctious on the long flights.”

  Tayden wasn’t worried with the apology. No, she was too busy gaping at the man in her own aisle. The man whose lap she’s been sleeping on for god knew how long. A visible bulge strained the crotch of his pants and Tayden wanted to crawl off and die. Face hot, she shook her head, pressing a hand to her chest. “I am so sor–”

  “It’s fine.” He chuckled easily, smoothing his hands over his slacks. “Long flight. Tired, beautiful woman…empty lap…”

  He didn’t take his gaze from hers, which made the whole situation all the more uncomfortable. None too subtly, Tayden rubbed the side of her breast, working out the pain.

  “You slept on the seatbelt. I tried to move it but…well…” he trailed off.

  She’d never been more mortified. “Uh…I guess this is yours then?” She shrugged off the black jacket and folded it lengthwise. “Thank–”

  Her eyes darted to the stranger’s and then back to the lapel of his coat. A gold fleur de lis was pinned there. Coincidence. Right?

  “They were slow with the blanket and I had to turn on the air,” he explained, pointing to the circular duct above his head. His gaze combed down her body, came back to her face. “Things started getting a little…warm. And loud.”

  She must look like a beet right now. Tayden handed him the coat and their fingers brushed.

  Sinner…

  It echoed in her head, a hollow memory, followed by the soft bong of a wind chime. She jerked her hand back.

  What was happening to her?

  “Did you want that pillow now?” The flight attendant smiled, leaning over to turn off the call light. Then she laid her hands on the headrest of the aisle chair. Flaxen hair pulled back into a chignon highlighted her angular cheekbones. She wore a crisp white uniform skirt and blouse with a nametag above her left breast: Lindsey. Above the name, a pair of gold flight wings.

  Tayden’s throat went dry. She knew Lindsey intimately—knew her taste, her touch—but Tayden had never seen the flight attendant before standing in the security line in New York hours before.

  “Water,” Tayden’s row mate answered for her. He still hadn’t pulled his gaze away, staring so intently she thought he could see her dream replaying in her mind’s eye.

  “Sure thing, Julian. Be right back.”

  Julian?

  Lindsey walked off at the same time Tayden’s chair back rocked again.

  “Andrew! Apologize this instant.”

  A curly red head popped up above the seat. The child said nothing, staring at Tayden with wide brown eyes. Eyes that belonged to the boy on the path, dressed as a red devil, pointing up toward the manor.

  Now she was certifiable.

  “Andrew?”

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “Time for the bathroom, kiddo,” his mother said. They maneuvered out of their row and sidestepped down the aisle toward the rear of the plane.

  In a blink, Lindsey returned with the water, handing it to Julian before disappearing once more. Tayden noted the wristwatch.

  “Um…Could you tell me what time it is?”

  Julian glanced down, stared at her again. “6:18.” He held the tiny container out, and Tayden reached for it.

  “Seems all I can do is say thank you.” She laughed nervously, hoping the water would wash away the odd dream and the feelings she now had because of it. She took the bottle and Julian wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

  Tayden gasped.

  Fog was everywhere. She stood by the car.

  Walked through the village.

  The manor.

  Wings.

  Mask.

  Confess…

  Cake.

  Mirror.

  Liar…

  Beads.

  Wide-eyed, Tayden watched Julian as every single moment flashed through her head. The replay slowed and the wetness between her thighs pooled as, in her mind’s eye, he inserted the string of anal beads. She could feel them, solid and real as the man holding her wrist.

  She moaned on the plane; moaned in her head when his hips parted her thighs, his cock diving into her with one rough thrust. His grip firmed as he plunged into her again and again.

  And then she was back on the plane, water in one hand, Julian’s thick cock in the other, emerging from the zipper of his dark slacks. Surprise covered his face, but Tayden didn’t stop and he didn’t stop her.

  She tipped forward over the seat separating them, the balls massaging her inner walls as she opened her mouth wide for a taste. Tayden swirled her tongue over the mushroomed crown; Julian harden against her lips. She bobbed up and down on his cock, slurping up every inch of his thickly veined length, encouraged by his moans.

  Julian’s hips shot upward, a tiny motion at first that turned into a ride so rough Tayden could hardly hold on. “Yeah, suck me harder,” he hissed. “Harder.”

  Saliva spilled from Tayden’s mouth, coating his dick as he went deeper into her throat. This was so naughty—not something she’d ever dream of doing. Which made it all the more exciting.

  An ache built in her clit, but with the odd angle over the seats it was too hard to get her free hand where she needed it to be. Julian grunted, careless of his volume. Any minute Tayden would be found out, sucking off a stranger on a near-full transatlantic flight. How freakin’ hot was that?

  His hand skated down her back, slipped beneath the bands of her skirt and panties. Down between the crease of her ass, separating her cheeks. One finger circled her hole and then pressed inside. Tayden arched her back and moaned.

  Salty sweetness leaked from the head of his cock and she swallowed it down, eagerly pistoning on his hard length. Releasing him with a pop, she buried her head between his legs, pulling his sac into her mouth.

  His finger pressed harder into her puckered bud. She licked a path back up and took him into her mouth again. He was close, she could feel it, the knowledge burning so hot it tipped
the first domino of her own orgasm. The beads rocked and rolled inside her, Julian’s hand gripped her head, forcing her down on his dick hard enough to make her gag.

  “Confess!” He let go and she gasped.

  Her eyes flashed open.

  “Attention on the concourse. Flight 1875 for Paris is now boarding. All passengers please proceed to Gate 4 for immediate departure.”

  Tayden blinked, sound returning at the same time vision did. The Foo Fighters played over the PA system of JFK International—since when did they become Muzak? She sat on the airport’s sticky floor, a pair of gray-green eyes in line with hers.

  “Pretty nasty fall you took. Are you okay?”

  Her lips were too puffy to speak, throat too raw with the lingering taste of him. His hand was on her back, and all Tayden could do was stare.

  “Miss?” A gold fleur de lis pin clung to the lapel of his coat, and he smelled of cigars. Smoky, chocolate cigars. “Should I call someone?”

  Tayden shook her head and her vision swam a little. “No…I’m fine. Thank you.”

  He helped her to her feet, and her pussy tightened, the most delightful feeling tickling her walls. Either she’d broken her ass during the fall, or she was wet from her thoughts. Thoughts she’d suppressed before. Thoughts good girls didn’t think.

  “I’m so sorry.” A woman stood at Tayden’s side, dressing in a light blue puff coat and denim jeans. A little disheveled, but very pretty. She pushed a reddish-brown lock behind her ear. “He took off and I panicked. Are you all right?”

  Tayden nodded, looked down to see a head full of red curls and a set of wide brown eyes gazing up at her. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “It’s… I’m fine, Andrew.”

  I think.

  The pair departed and her Good Samaritan held her tote out to her.

  “I think your phone survived,” he said, checking the screen. Not a crack in it. He hit a button on the side and the display came to life, showing the time. 6:19. Then he looked her over once more, concern in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Apart from having the most vivid daydream about you doing unspeakable things to me, and all in one minute?

  Tayden made a fist and bit down on her knuckle. It hurt.