‘What are you going to do now, hotshot?’ I say, and that drains some of the sudden daring out of him. But the heated eagerness remains, and that’s what I need the most. As long as that stays, I don’t care what else goes.
‘I …’ he says, so I take back the reins. I always take back the reins. I reach between our bodies and unzip his trousers, take out his heavy-once-again prick.
I bet he’s going to come as easily as he did not ten minutes ago, and the thought makes me sigh. My clit swells – my entire pussy swells. I think I’m going to come pretty easily, too.
‘Oh – your hand feels so good,’ he says, though I’m barely doing anything at all. I just squeeze, lightly, relishing the stickiness and his sharp scent. He washed his hands, but he didn’t get any of the mess here.
‘Be quick – before anyone else gets on and comes in here,’ he demands, but that just shows me how little he’s learnt.
‘Be quick at what?’ I ask, and then loosen my grip on his swelling prick.
‘On … uh …’ he starts, but of course can’t finish. What is he going to say? On the handjob you’re going to give me? Jerk me off, now?
How dull.
Instead, I lean in close, and manoeuvre the head of his cock to my sopping slit. I arch my back so that it fits, and then he’s right up against my clit, right there – God yes.
‘Ohhhh you’re all slippery,’ he tells me, as though I don’t already know.
I forgive him, however, because I’m now rubbing his nicely thick cock against my aching bud, and it feels too good to split hairs. Pleasure radiates outward from the place where we’re meeting, and I use his cock like a finger, like a sex toy, sliding it around and around my clit until I’m moaning.
‘Are you going to come?’ he asks me. ‘Are you going to come?’
But I don’t get a chance to answer. He tells me how he can’t last and asks me to stop, first. Stop, he says. Stop, as I tug harder on his swelling cock and rub myself all over him. When I feel him spurt against me – that’s when I give it up. When his spunk drowns my clit and he pants and bucks his hips up and the train … the train is coming to a stop, again. That’s when my body tightens all over and I cry out – loud enough for the whole train to hear.
Bliss.
I allow myself one small sag against him. Just to recuperate. Just to feel him shuddering against me while I come down too. I put my hand to my lips, and taste him one final time.
And then it’s back to being me.
I peel myself off him and stand, putting knickers back into place – around a delightful mingling of fluids that I’ll be sure to explore later – and my skirt to my knees once more. I watch him do the same – trousers fastened, hair smoothed back – before I sit back down beside him.
He’s still breathing hard, when I do. And I think: God, what a wonderful Valentine’s Day gift I’ve given him. Anyone would be thrilled with a present like that and he’ll be doubly so because he’s like that. There’s nothing he loves more than being humiliated and used, I know – I always know – and I’m sure right now he’s thinking up something equally as delicious for me. Something that’s not chocolates and flowers. Something that’s decadently dirty.
Or he would be thinking those things up. I’m sure he would. If he were my boyfriend, and not a total stranger.
Tongue Craft
by Alcamia
It was one of those sultry, golden evenings which only the south of France can produce, and I was sitting at the bar enjoying a drink, while the barman, Henri, polished glasses. I had been watching Marius for a couple of hours. He was built like a bull, large and rugged, his skin tanned to a deep bronze hue from his work down at the docks. He had an irresistibly sexual aura, so much so, I couldn’t resist being just a little provocative – hitching up my skirt to show him my curvaceous thighs and leaning forward to display the swell of my breasts. Grinning at me, Marius raised his glass and, winking at me, he would show me the tip of his agile, fluttering tongue, before he turned his attention back to the swarm of women who were now clustering around him, touching and flirting with him and making a great fuss of trying to sit on his lap.
‘That man over there … Who is he?’ I asked.
Henri leant conspiratorially across the counter. ‘You want to watch that one, that’s Marius or as he’s known in these parts. Langue de chat?’
‘Why do they call him cat tongue?’ Sipping my drink, I enviously watched as Marius began fondling a pretty blonde.’
‘No one really knows how he came by the name, but apparently if you have carnal knowledge of Marius, you know.’ A sly smile spread across Henri’s face. ‘It’s rumoured Marius has a most unusual method of seduction. They say once a woman has sexually known him, she is ruined for ever and once licked by Langue de chat, no man will ever be able to satisfy her again. You need to watch his party game to know what I mean. Today’s Friday and Marius always plays on a Friday. Soon everyone here will begin to place their bets and the punters will ask him to perform some ludicrous feat of dexterity with his disgusting tongue. To my knowledge, he’s never lost a bet.’
Fascinated, I ordered another Daiquiri. I was determined to watch cat tongue’s game and discover what made this sexy bear of a man so mysterious.
Marius drank a couple of glasses of scotch and suddenly a plump local woman with fiery red hair and stunning breasts stood up and, fixing Marius with a coquettish smile, she shouted, ‘Langue de chat, it’s about time you showed us a little of your tongue craft. Whip the monster out and demonstrate what you can do with it.’
The crowd clapped and whistled and Marius, after making a great act of pretending he didn’t know what the girl was on about, instantly thrust out his fleshy tongue. It was unbelievable, since I had never seen an oral muscle of such incredible dimensions and flexibility. It was much longer than any tongue I had ever seen before and it seemed he could do amazing and rather obscene things with it. Marius could bend it this way and that and make shapes with it – in fact the tongue could execute such formidable feats of gymnastics, I think it had a mind all of its own.
The pretty redhead, wiggling her hips invitingly, came and sat on Marius’s lap and, producing a tape measure out of her pocket, she proceeded to goad him with it. I watched, mesmerised, as Marius teased her back, first of all sticking out his tongue just a little bit and next wriggling it about. However, before she could trap it with her nimble hands, he’d pop it back into his cavern and she would giggle in consternation as her fingers missed the slippery trickster, pressing his mouth instead. Marius trapped her finger with his fleshy full lip and sucked it inside his mouth, all the while whispering in her ear and making her blush as she cried. ‘Marius, don’t be a tease.’
Soon the small crowd of people around the bar were chanting. ‘Get it out again, Langue de chat, get it out.’ The erotic fervour of the audience reminded me of the time I’d attended a striptease. The same sexual tension permeated the air and I think every woman in the room was aroused. As the crowd chanted, Marius kept laughing and jiggling the woman on his knees so her large breasts bounced. I’m sure her nimble hand was fondling his crotch.
‘Yes, I will get it out.’ He said playing to the crowd. ‘But only if Angelina the virgin lets me kiss her.’
Stroking her abundant red hair out of the way and pushing her bosoms against Marius’s open shirt, Angelina proceeded to part her lips and closed her eyes ready for the invasion. At that precise moment, the crowd held their collective breath and the curious sexual atmosphere intensified. It was as if I were witnessing a rape with the tongue or a mysterious and deliberate seduction. Marius pressed his lips to hers, angled her head with his hand to maximum advantage and began to kiss her, while the woman’s body behaved very curiously, giving little orgasmic jerks and twitches. I was aware something unusual was going on and I was not immune to the highly arousing throb
of subliminal sex, but it was difficult to tell quite exactly what was occurring within the mouth of the redhead. I began to shift on my bar stool as fierce stabs of sexual longing intensified and I realised my flimsy silk panties were drenched in juices. I couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have the mysterious Langue de chat kissing me and thrusting his dextrous oral appendage into every one of my bodily apertures.
Needless to say, the kiss lasted a long time and when eventually their lips broke apart, Angelina’s face had assumed a drugged expression. She was now pale and breathless and two high spots of colour marked her cheekbones. Marius fixed her with his dark gaze, licked his lips and slowly he pushed out his tongue to its fullest extremity. The woman, now tamed and docile, measured it thoughtfully and nodding her head and pocketing the tape measure, she slid shakily off Marius’s knee and collapsed in the arms of her friend, gasping. ‘It’s amazing, incredible. It’s even larger than a dick. I’ve been savaged.’ And then she smiled.
The bar had become extremely quiet.
‘There you are. Another woman has been raped by the tongue and now she won’t be the same again. It is like witchcraft. She has been tasted by Langue de chat and she will never find satisfaction with another man. She is bewitched by the tongue,’ Henri said, shaking his head sadly.
Something about the nature of the tongue aroused me. If you have never seen an appendage like Marius’s, you will not know what I mean, but I can tell you a man’s penis soon loses it’s attraction when you are confronted with a dexterous muscle as long as a ruler, with the ability to gyrate, dart and probe into your most sensual places with the nimble flexibility of an acrobat.
One day, Marius slipped into a chair at my table. ‘Do you enjoy my little show?’ he asked, winking at me, and stretching out the tongue. ‘People freak out sometimes. However, once they see my performance, they’re seduced.’ Turning his glass around and around in his fingers, he fixed me with a licentious stare. ‘I’ve noticed you here before, you come alone and you don’t have a boyfriend. It’s a waste for such a beautiful woman to be on her own. How about I ask you out? There’s this nice place down on the beach which has prawns to die for.’
Laughing, I shook back my long brunette hair. ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’
Spreading his hands in supplication, Marius affected a pout with his provocative lips. ‘Why ever not? Ah I know why it is! My behaviour puts you off. You have watched me and you think I am a whore of the tongue and I am prostituting my body. You think to yourself, I don’t want to know that randy Frenchman, he’s a sleaze. Well I can assure you, my sweet, it’s just a party piece and simply for amusement, that’s all. At one time, I got a gig in a small and curious theatre where they liked to make fun of people with bodily appendages which were rather out of the ordinary. After a while though, I got bored with it, since there’s not much fun in prostituting your body night after night. This is different, I do this purely for amusement. I like to confound women and arouse them. But, I know what you’re thinking and, in a manner, it’s true. My tongue is indeed like a whore, it finds its way here and there and it does rather naughty things, but …’ Leaning closer to me I felt his breath tickle my neck and my nipples hardened alarmingly. ‘Let me tell you, it very seldom gets cunt. I mean, I don’t fuck every woman I meet, in fact I’m very choosy. Naturally, girls will spin stories that they’ve had me, but that’s because they’re crazy they never got fucked by the tongue of Langue de chat.’
I couldn’t resist him. Langue de chat kept flirting and from time to time his hand would touch my fingers or brush my breasts. I was tingling from head to toe, alight with pulsing erotic thoughts of tongues and penises penetrating me in every secret place. You see, no man had been able to satisfy me in years. I require infinite variety and painfully long periods of foreplay to make me orgasm and my boyfriends soon tire of me easily when their fingers and tongues begin to ache and I fail to come on demand. Now once again I was coming alive like a glowing ember of sex – to delicious erotic reawakening. Marius ignited feelings in me I’d forgotten and many more besides. I could feel my skin thrilling and trembling with the anticipation of Langue de chat’s unique tool and the filthy performance it could stage on my feverish body.
‘I promise,’ he said, pressing his hand to his heart and laughing, ‘if you come out with me, I will keep the freak well and truly incarcerated in his hot, little prison cell, and I’ll only let it out to play if you ask me nicely.’ Then, quickly, he gave me a delicious little kiss on the corner of my lips. How could I resist?
Early on in life, Marius discovered his muscular oral appendage was the key to fame, fortune and sexual fulfilment. Naturally, the tongue was a useful pulling tool, and after a woman recovered from the shock of seeing the long, lean, oral fucking machine flickering away at her – she easily fell for him. Many mysterious tales circulated about the oral gymnast and Marius was fond of recounting stories about the extensive range of kinky oral acrobatics his chunky muscle could perform.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘it’s curious how I became the local celebrity because at school I was quite a freak. Kids are so observant and they immediately pick up on you if you are different.’ Crossing his long legs, he fixed me with an impertinent stare. ‘Whenever I was sitting eating my lunch, the other kids would all be staring at me, waiting to catch a glimpse of my tongue and it irritated me so much I couldn’t help poking it out and showing it to them. Other little boys liked flashing their penises, I enjoyed flashing the tongue. I’d artfully knot it up and flex it, just to make their eyes boggle, until, as fate would have it, the local bully Pierre, caught me out the back, by the toilet block. He was head of a gang and they picked on any kid who was a bit different. Well before I knew it, they’d tied me up and made me get on my hands and knees, while Pierre screamed at me. ‘Show me the tongue. Naturally, I didn’t want to, I was afraid, but he forced me. He said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d go to my father and say I’d been feeling up Janine, the school whore. Well you can imagine, that would have been the most dreadful thing. You see, I was the son of the local priest and it would have brought such shame on my family. Well, Pierre, really was a dirty pig. He stood in a corner and he unzipped his pants and taking out his dick he masturbated himself into a fever as he watched me execute all sorts of antics. He made me lap at a plate of milk, saying the tongue reminded him of a cat. I had to lap away at the plate and lick it entirely clean before he was happy, then he made me manipulate my tongue in all sorts of crude poses. Pierre was cruel and more than a little twisted. Last of all, he caught my tongue in his fingers and, although I was gagging, he stretched it out and looked at it closely, and I have to say, that really hurt. ‘My God!’ he said. ‘Can you be real? You must have fallen from space and be an alien to have such a weird tool.’ Well, my eyes were watering and I thought I was going to choke. That’s when Janine leapt on him. She must have been watching us, because I heard this screech like a wild cat and the next thing I knew, Pierre had let me go and he was dancing around and around with Janine clinging to his back like a monkey, slapping his head and biting at his ears. My God, she was quite a wild woman, and the first love of my life.’
‘That’s terrible.’ I said, hardly able to believe it. An episode that horrible could mark you for life.’
‘Oh that’s so true.’ Marius continued. ‘The tongue has been a curse, it has also been a blessing. In this instance, I caught your attention, didn’t I?’ Leaning forward he rubbed at my mouth with his thumb. ‘Well, that horrible experience was my grand – coming out – so to speak. Janine had a queer look in her luminous, tear-filled eyes; it was like a madness, mingled with desire. I found her compassion so arousing as she untied me. ‘Poor thing,’ she said, stroking my hair like she might her pet cat. ‘He’s a perverted animal, that Pierre. You know, I saw it, I saw your tongue, Marius. But will you show it to me now, all of it. In private. It’s not that I want to make fun of it.
I just love the sight of your tool. I find your tongue so hot and erotic and it does crazy and wonderful things to me inside here.’ She stroked her mound through her skirt.
Well, I didn’t know what to do. Janine was a gorgeous girl, all curves and oozing ripe sex. I didn’t believe a word of those rumours about her; she was simply blessed like me with a physiological peculiarity, in her case incredibly huge tits. Since she didn’t drop her knickers for just anyone, the boys ribbed her like crazy, I guess they were jealous because they wanted to get their hands on her and Janine wouldn’t accommodate them. As I stared at her, I could see her tight little nipples straining away, as her blouse could hardly contain those huge appendages. Janine’s buttons were always ready to pop. I shot out my tongue and leaning forward Janine stared at it. ‘Oh, I love your tongue, it’s so pink and it looks just like the tongue of my kitten. Yes that’s what I shall call you from now on, Langue de chat. At first I wondered if she was making a joke about it but when she moved forward and began unbuttoning her blouse I could tell that she was deadly serious. ‘Wouldn’t you like to lick on these, my delicious Langue de chat.’
You can guess what happened, it turned out that on this occasion I was the cat that got the cream. I lapped and sucked away at the huge round globes and as I fondled and titillated her shell pink nipples, Janine orgasmed time and time again and that was even before I set to work on her cunt. One thing you’ll discover – I’m blessed with great patience. I worked away tirelessly on Janine until I’d licked away every last drop of her pussy cream and made her come so many times I lost count. On that day, I was reborn as I realised my tongue had some fabulously dirty uses. Uses that made women scream and faint with lust.’
Marius poked out the tip of his pink tongue, licked his lips and then pushed it out to its furthest extremity. It was smooth, pink and extremely plump. ‘I have a piercing what do you think?’ He wriggled the appendage and I saw the glisten of a silver tongue stud. ‘Why don’t you come a little bit closer and taste me.’
Sex, Love & Valentines Page 14
