Rough Erotica

by Lexi Lovelost

  I looked back at the concoction still simmering on a low heat. It was tempting to bask in those flavors all over again. I didn’t want any more encouragement. My hands were still in a compromising position with his belt tightened to the last notch.

  “Don’t make us wait any longer than necessary. My man has the kind of instrument to make any woman happy. You felt it for yourself. Imagine what that would feel like sliding into your body. Losing yourself in a moment of pleasure isn’t something you should be afraid of. Embrace it and enjoy the aftermath lying in between us. That one orgasm needs to be expanded on.” The phantom presence of that climax was making me ready to rush up those stairs. There was still the Catholic girl underneath my newly found sexuality trying desperately to make me realize the mistake I was making.

  “Claire isn’t being entirely truthful with you. As I understand it, it is going to hurt initially, but then you will expect to feel sensations you’ve never had before. They will stymie you and make you wonder what other special little tricks are up our sleeve.” I heard their steps receding down the hallway and then the telltale click of the master bedroom door closing.

  I stared with wide-eyed wonder at the stairs. My dress was holding on by sheer will alone. It didn’t take much to shimmy out of it. I could see my reflection in the mirror. The results of working out every morning and evening were finally being seen with different eyes.

  I had a beautiful mind to go with the smoking body. This was my one chance to find the answers plaguing me from the moment I realized the power I had with my hand to be responsible for my own orgasms. The puzzle of my virginity was one I wanted them to solve.

  I was ready to cast aside my doubts and be open to what they were prepared to teach me. It was time to let them know my answer by climbing to the destiny of their hands wrapped around me.

  It dawned on me there was no way I could get down on all fours with my hands currently immobile behind me. I was going to have to make it work to show them how much I wanted this.

  Chapter Four

  Getting to the top of the stairs wasn’t easy on my knees. They were waiting for me with Claire standing in the dominant role with a crotch-less leather pair of panties swinging from her finger.

  “Put these on and get on the bed where you belong.” I shuffled forward until I was able to climb up onto the king sized island of a bed. “Open your legs and spread them as far as you can. I want to see you split down the middle ready to be our little slut. Don’t look at him until I tell you to. Keep your attention on me and listen to every word coming out of my mouth.” I was living on the prayer of them not doing anything to scare the daylights out of me.

  “I would seriously consider listening to her. She doesn’t like to repeat herself.” Her tone didn’t affect his condition. I wasn’t sure, but I was under the impression there was a couple of more inches not there before.

  “I want this so badly I can taste it on the tip of my tongue. I don’t know what is going to happen tonight, but tomorrow you are going to see a different girl waking up between you both.” She gave me the come hither motion and I was on my knees until he had his hands on my shoulders. The knob of his arousal was a plum size reminder of what I was going to consume.

  “Follow my directions to the letter and we won’t have any problem. I’m going to show you one time how he likes it and then you are going to duplicate it. Before long you will find your own rhythm and technique.” She was on her knees wearing nothing but a smile.

  I struggled into the panties. They were very snug and hugged my hips like a boa constrictor. The lips were exposed and my sex was dripping in absolute need for more than my fingers.

  “She has been the only girl who has ever been able to make me cum in her mouth. We have been waiting to find someone with the same hunger. I find it necessary to paint her when she has that glow of satisfaction about her.” That would explain the easel and the blank canvas in the corner of the room with a multitude of different color paints.

  Her lips were painting a crimson color down the length of his shaft. I could smell the strawberry flavor permeated the air. She continued undeterred giving it her all until every inch vanished into her constricting throat. I could see the bulge and she remained motionless with his legs trembling with the effort.

  She pulled back to circle the head repeatedly before consuming the evidence of his excitement. Doing this several times had him throbbing with that one long vein down the back something I was very familiar with.

  “It’s your turn to continue where I left off. I hope you don’t disappoint me. I have great expectations of you. I hope you can exceed them.” It was going to be a personal triumph for me to see if I could deepthroat someone of his unique size and diameter.

  His hands were once again on my shoulders and I could smell the flavor of chocolate. Before I had a chance to sample the merchandise, Claire produced a bottle of chocolate whipped cream. She covered the entire monument to manhood from the top of the head all the way down to his hairless balls.

  I immediately began working my tongue in long swipes which unveiled the sticky syrup dripping from the head. The more I did this, the more flowed freely which made my job much more pleasurable.

  “It’s a good start, but I think you can do better than that. Do exactly what I taught you, but feel free to put your own spin on things. It would be a good idea for you to be able to touch him at the same time.” In this regard, she released me from my bonds and I was tempted to rub my wrist. It really didn’t hurt as much as I thought it was going to.

  “I want the sweet cream boiling in his nuts and I’m not going to stop until I get it.” I was possessed by a sexual devil lurking underneath the prim and proper exterior of a good Catholic girl.

  “Claire might not be willing to say it, but those words are exactly what we were hoping to hear. I have to say the scorching evidence of your curiosity can be felt in the only way that matters.” Claire was soon behind me, slapping my ass and force feeding me her fingers with her tongue following suit. This wasn’t the first time and it wasn’t going to be the last.

  “You would be surprised at how rare it is to find a… challenge.” I was grazing my teeth, leaving my mark and enjoying the way he was gripping my hair with both hands.

  Her tongue was moving from one hole to the other leaving me on the precipice of another mind-numbing orgasm. It started with a rumble and then spread quickly through my lower limbs like a flash fire. It burned in a most delicious way until I was moaning and screaming in satisfaction. The vibration of my exclamation translated from my mouth to his shaft.

  “Fuck…if you keep that up I’m going to cum gallons all over that sweet little tongue of yours.” There was no hesitation and turning the switch was exactly what I was looking for. There was this need to taste the onslaught of his attack in a creamy form.

  I was able to hang onto the bottom of the bed with my mouth open for the pummeling thrusts of his manhood. I swallowed him down, gagging a little bit, but enjoying the feeling of being used and abused for their pleasure. I felt the telltale sign building to a breaking point.

  “I gave you fair warning and now you are going to find out that I’m a man of my word. Open up your mouth and stick out your tongue as far out as you can. Take a hold of it and continue sucking until you feel I’m at the point of no return.” This was a strange and interesting experience. I did what he said and the heat of his shaft touching my fingertips reminded me of how it felt down in the kitchen.

  His knob began to spurt continuously with the vein pumping wildly in my fist. I milked his balls of the searing cream. It was burning the length of my tongue. I let it lay heavily until there was not even a drop remaining in his reservoir of excitement. Some of it was dribbling down my chin.

  I was built for sex. I was denying myself the pleasure in a knee-jerk reaction to my Catholic upbringing.

  There was a bitter taste, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was actually quite a decadent delight which I was hard press
ed not to think of adding to certain recipes to make them irresistible to the opposite sex. They wouldn’t need to know my secret ingredient. It would be criminal to witness them devour my treats and not utter a word of the delightful additive.

  I was thrown on my back with Claire hovering over me before she descended with her mouth to share what had been deposited. We made out heavily with our tongues exchanging the liquid refreshment provided by the man still sporting a hard-on.

  “I always love how Claire seems to know exactly what to say to get what she wants. There’s something quite enticing about seeing two women kissing with wild enthusiasm. There’s this untamed energy in the air I plan to use on the both of you. Stack yourselves up and continue what you’re doing.” Her soft skin was a tactile sensation to my enhanced sense of touch. The taste of his seed lingering on the tip of my tongue was the kind of aphrodisiac to make any woman throw open their legs in invitation.

  I heard the snap of the leather of the panties as he was using his fingers to pull them open. The heat of his mushroom head was wiping along the wetness of my slit.

  “I want you to look at me and don’t think about what he’s doing. I’m here with you every step of the way. Let this happen naturally and don’t try to fight it.” She was holding my gaze and her eyes lit up like the 4th of July when he began to make his initial approach.

  “You are one fucking tight little bitch.” I heard him spit into his hand and most likely rubbing it into the length of his pipe. “Let’s try this one more time with feeling.” That cock began the slow and agonizing journey to feel my lips wrapped around him. I screamed and Claire did nothing to quell my enthusiasm. She smiled and watched with fascination as he broke through the resistance of my cherry.

  “The pain is minimal and you must know it would’ve been far better had you done this a long time ago.” He continued to push with the power of his hips until I felt the presence of his balls swinging against my ass.

  “I feel… I really don’t know what I’m feeling, but I think I like it. I think I fucking love it.” The warmth of his shaft feeling the friction of my tight little hole was causing him to grunt.

  “You’re never going to be a stranger to our bed the entire time you are staying with us. There might be nights you will be alone with Stefan and there might be nights where you are alone with me. At least once a week, you will be the centerpiece of the evening for the both of us.” He was using his baseball bat of persuasion to open me up. The next orgasm was stronger than the first and the one after that was growing in demand.

  “I haven’t had a virgin in… I don’t think I’ve ever had a virgin. This is definitely something I’m going to have to cross off my bucket list. This little hole is hard to vacate.” He did manage to give Claire a few strokes before returning to what was becoming a guilty pleasure for him.

  “Give it to her. I want to see the fire in her eyes. She loves getting fucked. Opening her to the possibilities is going to be something of a catch 22. She won’t be able to get enough and we will have to beat her off with a stick.” The pleasure outweighed any kind of discomfort I felt at the beginning.

  “Don’t tempt me and you know what happens when you present a red cape to a raging bull.” His thrusts were speeding up.

  My breathing was hoarse with my lungs on fire from how often I was screaming in absolute euphoria.

  “Cum all over her and shoot it as far as you can. I know the very idea of fucking a virgin untouched by another man has done something for you.” She was feeding his ego and the intensity of his powerful lunges wasn’t lost on me.

  I lost count of how many times I came and then he was firing off what was left in the chamber. The heated touch of his seed streaked up to the back of my neck. He was pushing with insistence through the valley of my ass cheeks. Each subsequent blast had a little less behind it. Claire was right there to clean up the mess with her tongue. This time she was greedy and kept it all to herself.

  I was soon between them naked and not at all ashamed by my behavior. They were sleeping. I was watching them intently. I laid my head on her shoulder with my hand wrapped around his depleted state. I was ready to do it again.

  I still had a lot to learn from the both of them. They were going to have an avid pupil ready and willing to be taught a lesson. What would my parents think if they could see me? I didn’t care.

  Story 6

  It couldn’t be true. Lori stared at the paper in her shaking hands and her eyes went back to the words again, and again, but she still couldn’t believe them.

  They were there, in solid black on creamy white paper. They were heavily typed and written in a very formal font. Her eyes took in those details because she couldn’t imagine that something so formal, so densely written on such rich paper could be a joke.

  But it had to be.

  Her hands shook as she set the paper down then smoothed it. There were wrinkles all in the edges where her fingers had gripped it so tightly and somehow that seemed wrong. The letter should remain in its pristine condition, all sharp creases and corners. She’d mussed it, and now she wanted nothing more than to restore it to its former glory.

  Her eyes went back to the words written there and her heart lurched in her chest as she read them yet again, hoping to make them sink in.

  Dear Miss Lori Wilson,

  My name is Jonathon Booth. I’m the executor of the estate of Thomas Hall, your father. Thomas informed me that the two of you have long been estranged, and that while that may be so you are his only child and if anything was to happen to him it should be you to whom I address these sad tidings.

  It’s with my deepest sympathy that I write to tell you that Thomas Hall passed away several days ago in the local hospital, where he had had been sent by his primary physician. Because you are his only surviving relative, and due to the conditions of his will, I am writing to inform you as well that you have been made his heir, and that the list of his assets, which are now yours, is below.

  I know this must come as quite a shock, and that you are likely not prepared for such a sudden shock. I’m afraid time is of the essence however, and I need a reply to this letter, in the main I need to be made aware of two things. Will you be keeping the assets or would you prefer that they be liquidated, and if you would prefer that they be liquidated I need to know how you would like to proceed on that front.

  You may call me at the number above in the address at any time.

  Again, my deepest sympathies to you in this time of grief,

  Signed,

  Jonathon Booth

  Time of grief.

  Her eyes went to the words and stayed there. What grief? She hadn’t seen her father since she was a small child and, aside from a brief conversation over the phone with him the day of her mother’s funeral, she had never heard from him either.

  Lori paced the floors, trying to think. Time had somehow gotten away from her. She’d meant to go see him, her father. She’d meant to make time, and so had he. There’d been that promise, made the day of her mother’s funeral, but since she didn’t know him and she had such a busy life it had just never happened. He had never written or called her to ask when she was coming either though. It was like the two of them were content not to know each other at all.

  So, no grief but plenty of regret.

  The apartment was small and cramped, made even more crowded by her paintings. She sighed as she stared at them. Four years of hard work, and the gallery had shown them, but only a few had sold. Three out of nearly twenty.

  No passion. No meatiness. That had been the general gist of the reviews that her work had received and as she stared at the cityscapes and studies she realized that that was true. She had not really ever known passion, and there was not much passion in her work.

  Well, no wonder.

  She was a woman of size living in New York, the city that celebrated thinness and shunned larger women. The stores displayed impossibly small leggings and tights, dresses that were designed to cl
ing to the leanest of bodies and blouses that would never button across her generous breasts. Getting a date was impossible and she hadn’t been actually laid in years, unless she counted her vibrator and the thick dildo in her dresser drawer.

  It was hard to be passionate about a dildo and a vibrator, even if they did ease the sexual tension she often felt. Unfortunately none of that sexual tension or desire showed in her work.

  She paced the floor again. She eventually wound her way back to the table where the letter lay. The stamp was New Mexico. She closed her eyes. New Mexico, home to desert vistas and… and what?

  She had no idea. She’d grown up here in the city and while she had considered going elsewhere to try to find some inspiration she had never had the money to do so. Italy was but a dream, and always would be. So were Paris and a few other places on her list.

  Unless…how much could a ranch in New Mexico be worth?