‘Oh God,’ she moaned.
Encouraged, Vanessa’s tongue lapped at her, licking hard from her puckered hole all the way up her slit. Her fingers opened up Julie’s pussy as though it were a delicate flower and she nuzzled in with her nose, rubbing up against her clit, while her fingers explored her deeply.
‘Oh, Brad,’ Julie whispered. ‘I need to see her. I need to watch what she’s doing. Take off the blindfold, please.’
I said nothing, still sitting in my chair, as Vanessa’s hands roamed up to Julie’s heaving breasts. Vanessa’s arse was pointing upwards, twitching as her mouth ravished my wife.
‘Oh God,’ Julie moaned. ‘Yes, there. Oh God, yes.’
I knew she was about to come and I was pleased that my surprise hadn’t backfired. Knowing how excited Julie was, was all I was interested in. Well, maybe not all. Vanessa’s arse certainly had its appeal and I was sure her pussy would be as delectable as my wife’s, but this was my wife’s surprise so my feelings and desires didn’t come into it.
‘Brad, please,’ Julie begged. ‘Stop tormenting me. Take of this blindfold.’
Her head thrashed from side to side as though she could dislodge it. I moved over to her while Vanessa continued and gently removed the material. I kissed Julie’s lips; her tongue snaked out, thrashing about inside my mouth as she kissed me with more passion than I thought possible.
‘I need to see her,’ she breathed into my mouth. ‘Oh God, I love you so much.’
I moved my hand to tweak a nipple as Julie strained against the restraints, lifting her head to peer down at Vanessa. Vanessa’s deep blue eyes stared up from over her mound as her tongue continued to tantalise her.
‘I need you to fuck me,’ she begged.
‘What?’
‘Fuck me,’ she demanded. ‘I need you to fuck me.’
‘I have the dildo. I can get Vanessa to strap it onto herself and she can fuck you with it.’
I didn’t think she wanted me to participate, well not now, not with Vanessa here. That was one of my fantasies. To have a threesome with my wife.
‘You sure?’ I whispered, eager for my cock’s release.
‘Very sure,’ she smiled. ‘Please hurry. I want Vanessa up here so I can taste her pussy.’
Vanessa rose and climbed up to the head of the bed. She unclipped the teddy and squatted over Julie’s face. I could see blonde tufts of pubic hair poking out and watched mesmerised as Julie’s tongue stretched forward and she had her first taste of another woman.
In a flash I was out of my clothes and between her legs, my knob so huge, the skin threatening to burst, it was so stretched. Julie’s pussy was gaping open. I could see her juices glistening and with one quick thrust I was deep inside her.
Vanessa was facing me and I saw her eye my cock. She grabbed at her own breasts, pulling them up and over the teddy, offering them to me. I leaned forward taking one in my mouth while my cock thrust back and forth inside my horny wife. I could feel my own orgasm building, wanting to explode.
I could just hear Julie’s frantic voice tugging at my conscience. I withdrew my cock and helped Vanessa off.
‘Undo these handcuffs now,’ she demanded eyeing my cock.
She was like a woman possessed. Her voice was deep, a manic quality there that I’d not heard before. Rose petals had stained her skin and as I uncuffed her she flew at Vanessa, threw her on to her back and fell between her open legs.
I pulled Julie’s bra free from her arms and lifted her higher by the hips. With her naked arse beckoning me, I parted her pussy lips and teased her with my knob. She pushed back at me, wiggling, trying to impale herself on to me while she devoured Vanessa.
I rammed into her, hearing her cry of pleasure and fucked her hard.
‘Oh yeah, baby. Yeah. Oh God, fuck me harder you bastard,’ she screamed. ‘Harder!’
I fucked her harder than ever before, my eyes riveted to Vanessa’s breasts as they jiggled over her body. Julie was wild and I felt her pussy contract over and over as she orgasmed. Finally she pulled away from me and collapsed on the bed beside Vanessa, kissing her mouth while her hands roamed over her.
‘Put on the dildo,’ she ordered Vanessa. ‘You,’ she said to me, as her legs wrapped themselves around my waist, ‘are the best husband in the whole world.’
I plunged back into her with renewed vigour, eying Vanessa as she strode towards me with this mighty dildo. I felt my hole pucker and clench. I was hoping Julie didn’t have plans for me to be on the receiving end. Thankfully she didn’t.
She rolled me onto my back and straddled me. Lying over me, her voluptuous breasts squashed against my chest, she wiggled her arse as Vanessa positioned in behind her. I hadn’t realised being fucked up the arse was another of her fantasies.
Vanessa’s hand was at my shaft and then her fingers were inside Julie, smearing her juices all over the crack of her arse. I was wishing we had a mirrored wall in here. I couldn’t see properly. I should have thought about a movie camera. Should have taped this, this special day.
Julie’s head rose and I saw her eyes wild, her nostrils flaring, her breath sweet with the musky scent of Vanessa as she anticipated the dildo’s entry.
‘Oh yes please,’ she whispered as Vanessa eased it in. ‘Oh yes.’
Within minutes we were humping like we’d done this all our life and it wasn’t long before Julie collapsed onto my chest, weak and exhausted. She rolled off me, lying there, her breasts heaving, her eyes still wild.
‘Fuck her,’ she demanded.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Fuck her. Quickly before I change my mind,’ she said sitting back against the pillows. ‘Doggy style.’
Pulling Vanessa towards me I quickly plunged my saturated cock inside her, feeling the amazing sensation of fucking another woman for the first time in over ten years. Julie was masturbating, coming again and again as she watched. She’d turned into a nymphomaniac.
Vanessa wiggled her way over to Julie’s open thighs and fell onto her pussy. We fucked and sucked each other for hours until finally it was time for Vanessa to leave.
Coming back into the bedroom after seeing Vanessa out, I smiled as I saw my sexy wife lying on her back amongst the crushed rose petals with her legs splayed open. I was reminded of just how lucky I really was. Even though this day had been for her she saw fit to include my happiness into it as well.
‘Fuck me,’ she breathed.
‘I need to rest,’ I said laughing. ‘I’m not a machine.’
‘Strap on the dildo,’ she demanded. ‘I need more.’
I looked at her thinking she was joking. She wasn’t. I’d unleashed a beast in her. I strapped on the dildo and finally, after many more hours of fucking her arse and pussy at the same time, she was finally sated.
We lay together locked in each other’s arms.
‘That was the best birthday ever,’ she murmured, nearly asleep.
‘You can say that again,’ I whispered.
Just as I nodded off I thought I heard her say, ‘Your birthday’s coming up soon. Let’s see if you like my surprise.’
I fell asleep with a smile on my face, dreaming of all my fantasies coming together at the one time.
A Club For The Discerning Young Gentleman
by David Harvie
The luminous digits on the clock read 19:00. This was the time Niall expected them to arrive. He pulled back a section of the drawn curtain and peered into the dark street, looking for a likely car, but saw none. When they spoke on the phone the woman at the other end seemed to know where his house was. Niall sat down and again watched the clock in the twilight of his bedsitter. The house was quiet this evening; the other tenants had either gone out or had not yet got in. ‘Please let it stay like this until I’m out,’ he said to himself, not wanting to be seen when he was taken away. His stomach continued to gurgle and his heart beat out a nervy rhythm. 19:03. Once more he fumbled inside his jacket pocket for his money and counted it. It was s
till £270.
19:05. When the doorbell rang it startled the young man out of his chair.
Opening the front door, Niall was faced with a short but heavily built black-suited bouncer-cum-chauffeur.
‘Niall?’ said the heavy. Niall nodded. He was led to a big saloon car with darkened windows. Once inside, the man said, ‘They explained about this did they?’ showing his passenger a balaclava with a thick patch stitched over the visor. Niall hummed a confirmation, not yet confident that his voice would work properly. He donned the spooky headgear. Satisfied, the driver started the car and moved off. The stereo played frantic rave music, loud but not enough to attract attention. During the ride the only conversation was an occasional and perfunctory ‘You all right in there?’ from the driver, to which Niall managed ‘Yeah, fine,’ each time.
The journey along urban-sounding streets may have taken about fifteen minutes. The car stopped in a quiet place.
‘Here we are,’ said the driver.
Niall took this as a cue to take off the balaclava but, on attempting it, felt a big hand grasp his wrist, not threatening but firm. ‘Not until we get inside,’ the driver said.
After being helped from the car, Niall was led a short distance – footsteps echoing – when his escort stopped him and pushed an entry buzzer. A squeezed electronic female voice answered. ‘It’s Ellie’s boy,’ said the man. The door clicked and opened. Inside Niall was guided down some uncovered stairs. The fat thud of club music forced itself out through a wall beside him. At the bottom of the stairs a squeaky door was eased open and they turned into a room. The hard clonking steps gave way to a soft quiet surface. Niall heard the door close behind him with another squeak and a clack, shutting out the music.
‘Right, you can take this off now,’ the man said. Niall adjusted his eyes to see a short blonde, brassy woman.
‘Come in baby,’ she said, ‘take your coat off, sit down. Ellie will be with you in a minute. Do you want anything while you’re waiting, a coffee, orange juice, glass of water?’ Niall politely declined.
She left and went through a second doorway into an adjoining room. Niall removed his jacket, folded it in half then laid it on an old-looking sofa. He sat down. Self-consciously he attempted to smooth down his mussed hair. The driver lit a cigarette and loitered by the doorway talking to the blonde. He was competing with a TV in the second room. It sounded like a British cop show was on. The room echoed with the scent of the woman’s perfume which reminded Niall of cannabis. Soon cigarette smoke mixed with, it making a disturbing odour.
It was a large square room; maybe a gym at one time or a dance studio. In the centre of the cream carpeted floor was a large, thick blue mattress. Cushions of various colours lay scattered on it. This area was lit from above by a single, unshaded, none-too bright bulb. Niall noted what appeared to be spotlights hanging from the ceiling, all aimed at the mattress. Further anaemic lighting was offered by chintzy electric wall lanterns. The only other furniture was an oval coffee table and a straight-backed wooden dining chair. These were the other side of the room to Niall and lived in twilight due to the mean bulbs. Niall strained to see a coil of rope and two belts on the floor by the chair. A glass ashtray occupied the centre of the coffee table. There was something black near the edge – and although Niall had never seen one for real before, he knew it was an automatic pistol. Beside it were some gold objects doing their best to gleam – handcuffs and a knuckleduster.
In between the chat going on by the door, Niall heard the gruff boom of another woman from the other room. ‘My boy ready?’ he heard her say. She sounded black and fierce, perhaps angry. Niall couldn’t take his eyes off the weapons. The driver came back into the room and walked straight to the table. After one last drag on his cigarette he stubbed it out in the ashtray. With a squinting glance at the young man he blew out a final lingering stream of smoke. As he went back towards the door Niall heard the blonde woman say, ‘You’ve got everything?’ The scary woman answered but he couldn’t make it out. Seconds later the blonde returned and was standing in front of Niall wearing a catwalk smile.
‘Are you having a film?’ she said.
‘No,’ said Niall.
‘What about a costume?’
‘No.’
‘No costume? OK. So that’ll be two hundred and fifty then.’
Niall stood up clutching his jacket and fumbled for his wallet, now aware that he had no desire to find it.
‘Actually…I’m not sure I want to do this now,’ he said, his throat hoarse with nerves.
Her smile vanished and she regarded him with a neutral expression. In the other room the television clicked off. From there another woman came in. Forty-something – maybe fifty, chocolate brown skin and big gold-dyed hair. She was very large. Her gently wobbling body was wrapped in a shiny crimson dressing gown. Its top half swelled dangerously with the mass of her breasts which were valiantly restrained by a gold lacy bra partly visible underneath the gown. She sported possibly the chunkiest hips Niall had ever seen on a woman. This was the famous Ellie.
‘What’s the matter, baby?’ said the blonde.
‘I’ve just changed my mind, that’s all,’ said Niall.
‘Are you sure? It’s entirely up to you.’
Niall made another polite, nervous excuse and walked towards the open door. Instantly a thick, black-sleeved arm shot across him blocking his exit.
‘No you don’t, not without this.’ Out came the daft headgear once more.
‘If you’re not staying, that’ll be just forty then,’ said the blonde.
‘Forty?’ said Niall.
‘Yes. You made an appointment, we’ve had to bring you here, everything’s ready for you and now you say you don’t want it. Now we’ve got to take you home. It’s all a bit inconvenient.’
Two young men – Niall and Wes – watched as once again the big negro woman threw the youth down, his black-skinned naked back thudding onto the mattress. He lay unmoving except for the pronounced rhythm of his chest. As he moaned he showed a grateful smile. Then with a war-like bellow Ellie dropped to her knees, crashing her rump into his midrift. His head jerked up and he let out an air-starved yelp. She put a hand over his pained face and shoved him back down. The gold bikini-wrapped bulges of Ellie’s body quivered as she eased into a comfortable position astride her boy.
Niall and Wes looked on agog, afraid to breathe.
A white crease moved down the picture briefly obscuring the action and killing the sound. While muttering barely audible taunts, Ellie worked her hand into, over and around his face. She clutched his mouth, squeezing his cheeks and lolled his head from side to side, her black fingers like legs of a spider wrestling its prey. Sweat glistened on his dark forehead and short, tightly curled hair as it was picked up under the lights.
The muscles in Ellie’s tree trunk thighs tensed, her knees dug into the boy’s sides. His face creased with sudden pain. She relaxed and his expression returned to pleasure. Ellie never smiled, her face a picture of quiet menace. Then with a husky grunt she gripped his sides again – he yelped, she relaxed – he groaned. She did it a third time. He lay on the mattress moaning and laughing. Ellie got off him and took hold of his boxers. With no resistance she pulled them off and flung them aside. ‘Roll over, on your tummy!’ she ordered. He instantly obeyed. From beside the mattress she produced two elasticated belts. With one she bound the youth’s feet together at his ankles. Then kneeling astride him she took the second belt and moved to his torso. ‘Lift up sucker,’ she said and fed the belt under him. ‘Arms behind your back,’ she tied his arms to his back. ‘Good boy,’ she growled testing the bind. Again Ellie reached for something. It was a whip with several tails. She stood and put a foot on the bare bottom facing her. ‘Mmm. Your cute little ass is mine now,’ she said freeing up the whip’s ends with a shake. Sixteen times Ellie lashed him with a slow scything action. There was a splatting sound as leather met buttock flesh and muffled yelps from the other end.
When she finished she dropped the whip. Her mighty bosom heaved and in a voice hoarse from effort she said, ‘Alright, I’ve done foolin’ around with you, coconut.’ She left him moaning into the mattress and walked over to a small table near the corner of the screen and picked something off it. Walking back slowly and pronounced for the camera like a heavyweight model, her black eyes locked onto him. She was holding a small black pistol. The boy raised his head and strained for a look behind to see Ellie returning. He buried his face into the plastic once more – and screamed – ‘No, Ellie! No!’
Ellie took no notice. Four feet from him she stopped, took a careful aim and squeezed off one…two…three shots. With each one a long jet of water fizzed out and splashed between the boy’s bare buttocks.
On the sofa Niall winced as Wes howled and cracked his fingers in that West Indian fashion.
‘What does that do for you, Wes?’ Niall said.
‘It’s great! You’ve gotta go back and try it bro’. I’ll come with you if you want. Get your own film done, it only cost three and a half. Man, that Ellie’s a heavy bitch, I couldn’t move when she was on me.’
‘It looked like she wanted to kill you.’
‘She could’ve, but that costs a lot more.’
Striptease
by Carmel Lockyer
I had my back against the wall and my hands plunged down the waistband of my skirt when the man appeared. I’d been expecting him, from the way he’d been watching me during the show, but I wasn’t sure he’d manage to find his way round the back of the club. I’d hardly managed to find it myself.
I’d been watching him as much as he’d watched me. He was in his thirties, wearing one of those collarless Armani suits and designer boots. A man with money. He probably hoped to pass for a creative type, but he couldn’t fool me – he was an accountant. I should know, after all. A cute, well-made, gel-haired accountant, with his blue eyes fixed on my sparkling silver pasties. I’d been sure if I skipped to the right, his eyes would come out of his head and follow, like a cartoon character.
Five Minute Fantasies 1 Page 9
