EROTICA: 81 BOOK MEGA BOX SET: XXX MF ROUGH EROTICA ROMANCE SHORT STORIES (Alpha Male Straight Filthy Adult Gang Group Multiple Partner Erotic Books Collection)

by Jessie Dame

  And I had to agree with him: it was fun to watch. For some reason, I enjoyed the way Aubrey's head bobbed up and down Brad's length, kneeled between his parted knees and not saying a word.

  I'd barely had a few moments of recovery before Ethan pulled me off the table and positioned me at the far end so that I faced Brad and Aubrey. He bent me over the wood, pushing the bowls of chips and half-full cups of liquor out of the way so I had a clear view of my husband. When he stepped back, the cool night air from a nearby window tickled my bare ass and slick pussy, arched up and exposed to Ethan. I nibbled my lip, waiting to see what might happen, beyond thrilled to have a man really take charge of me. Maybe Brad could get some tips…

  I gasped the first time he spanked me. Ethan's hand came down hard and steady, smacking me on the meat of my ass, and I met Brad's eye quickly. Both of us seemed stunned that Ethan had that side to him, but I stayed bent over, my tits flattened against the tabletop, making little squeaks and moans every time he spanked me. When there was a lull in the spanks, I glanced back and saw him glistening with sweat: clearly he was getting just as worked up over this as I was.

  By now, Aubrey and Brad had moved on to other things, and I watched, surprised, as Aubrey shimmied out of her underwear and climbed onto Brad's lap, kissing him full on the lips. I smirked, unable to help myself, and then gasped when Ethan grabbed my hips and tugged me back a little, then thrust his huge cock into me, filling me all at once. My eyes widened as I took him in, my tight body adjusting to him slowly, and my clit tingled at his forcefulness.

  Bent over the table, Ethan fucked me from behind, pressing down on my back as he took me—and I was in absolute heaven. I'd wanted to be dominated by someone for so long, and this was exactly what I needed. Meanwhile, Aubrey had started riding Brad, sliding up and down, his face buried in her ample cleavage.

  As Ethan pounded into me, his hand slowly wandered from my back to my neck, then around to my mouth. He pushed his fingers past my parted lips, and I sucked the lingering taste of my juices off gleefully. When I was through, he wrapped his hand over my mouth and pulled my head back, forcing me to watch how his wife rode my husband in wild abandon. Whenever I started to close my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure, he spanked my ass again, hard, so that I kept watching.

  Ethan's rough handling of me combined with the way Brad's eyes glazed over with lust was just too much, and soon enough I was coming all over his cock, my body tightening around the thick shaft as pleasure washed over me for a second time that night. Aubrey's climax came shortly after, though she was much more graceful about it. Unfortunately, she seemed to have an issue with Brad finishing inside of her, and before I could say anything, Ethan dragged me off the table, his cock still inside of me, and walked me toward the pair.

  "She never lets me come inside her," he said as Aubrey climbed off, her movements slow and languid, probably from her orgasm. "Here. Use her mouth."

  I perked up at the thought, parting my lips to accept Brad's familiar cock. As he thrust into my mouth, his usual taste combined with the sweet juices of Aubrey's climax, Ethan continued to slam into me over and over again, and shortly after Brad spilled himself down my throat, Ethan gave me a hard spank and thrust hard, groaning as he came.

  "Oh my god," Brad said, sighing and running his hand through his hair as Ethan eased out of me. I stood up slowly, not putting much trust in my wobbly legs, and then leaned against my husband's chair. "That was fucking fantastic."

  "Not a bad outcome for truth-or-dare," Ethan agreed before chugging down the rest of his drink. Aubrey and I locked eyes, and without saying anything, we came to the consensus that I was the winner of our little private game. After all, while Brad's salty taste lingered in my mouth, Ethan's come slowly dripped down my leg: clearly I'd taken much more than she had.

  "Who's down for a little midnight skinny dipping," she suggested, raising her eyebrows at me as she dragged her little sundress off and tossed it aside. I hid my smile as the men agreed, and as all four of us hurried down to the lake, shedding clothing as we ran, I realized that my game with Aubrey was far from over.

  And I couldn't wait to beat her again before the night was over.

  My Best Friend

  "Could you be more of a dork," I asked, stretching my legs out on the edge of the couch cushions. Carter's feet nestled under my butt, the only way we could fit on my sad little college-student-esque couch. My best friend raised his eyebrows, one hand wrapped around the beer bottle resting on his chest.

  "What? Why?"

  "The Batman underwear," I teased as I pointed at the slip of fabric sticking up above his pants. I'd seen it dozens of times before, and it usually meant he was running low on boxers—laundry day loomed. This time, I caught a flash of it when he stretched, dragging his shirt up with his arms. I'd been looking on purpose, eager to see a bit of those famous abs he worked so hard on, and got a full peek at the dorky underwear too.

  "Hey, Batman isn't just for dorks," he argued after taking a sip of his beer. On the coffee table in front of us, the few lingering half-eaten slices of the grand supreme pizza we'd split an hour ago were calling my name. I resisted: six had already wormed their way down my throat, and I'd have to hit the gym hard tomorrow—if I wasn't too hungover from tonight. Exam season was finally over, and I wanted nothing more than a night in with the guy who'd been my best friend since third grade. Pizza, beer, movies, and gossip: it was my favorite way to spend an evening.

  I rolled my eyes at him. "Oh, right, old Bruce Wayne is super mainstream these days, isn't he?"

  His toes wiggled under my butt, and I pushed down on them to quell their movements.

  "Hey, if you actually know the name of Batman's everyday persona, then yes, he's mainstream," Carter insisted, smirking at me. My gaze flickered over to the dimple on his right cheek. He'd been so ashamed of it in pictures when we were teens, until he realized girls thought dimples were cute. On Carter, dimples weren't cute—they were sexy. Somehow he'd grown from a beanpole of a kid into a gawky teenager, then morphed into a Greek god right under my nose while we were in college. Not that I was complaining or anything, but it was a strange phenomenon to suddenly realize your best friend was drop-dead-sexy.

  "Ugh, whatever," I sighed, grabbing my beer off the coffee table. "I'm just glad exams are done."

  "I'll drink to that."

  We leaned forward and clinked our bottles together, then downed about half of the liquid inside them in a single go. Now that finals were over, our drunken conversations drifted to the only natural topic: gossip. We'd run in similar friend circles since we were kids, and it was always easy to drag up something juicy to talk about. Before long, the conversation had shifted to Carter's most recent girlfriend, who he'd been parted from for three short months—and not a moment too soon, in my opinion. I'd watched him sink lower and lower in that relationship as time went by, and I'd known all along that she just wasn't right for him.

  "And it wasn't just the nagging and the bitching and the complaining," Carter groaned, throwing his hands up in the air as we sat side-by-side on the couch, both our feet propped up on the coffee table, bodied slumped together. "It's just… She wasn't very adventurous."

  "Wasn't she into mountain biking or something?" I asked, vaguely recalling our forced conversations where we'd always talk about her interests but never mine. He rolled his eyes when I looked at him, shaking his head.

  "No, yeah, she did lots of cool stuff in her free time," he continued as he leaned forward to set his empty beer bottle on the floor. "I mean adventurous in the bedroom. All she ever wanted was to screw under the covers, lights off. She hated when I went down on her."

  "Oh, I love when guys go down on me," I admitted with a heady sigh, my body already light and airy from the alcohol. The thought of a guy kneeling below me, his tongue lapping at my wet cunt, made my panties wet.

  The fact that it had been almost a year since I slept with anyone wasn't helping either. Sex talk always got me all r
iled up—a fact Carter knew perfectly well. I shot him a look, my eyebrow arched.

  "Right?" He laughed, swatting at my knee. A tingle ran up my thigh. "Girls taste so… great."

  "Oh, I'm aware," I mused. He looked at me sharply, frowning.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Don't give me that." I rolled my eyes, shifting so that we faced one another. "You've heard the story about me and Michelle at George's going-away party last year."

  "What?!" He practically shouted it, and I held back a giggle. "No! Every detail! Now!"

  I'd been drunk at the time, and the hookup was nothing more than a little innocent fun between two curious women. I had a good time, Michelle did too, and we went our separate ways once it was over. To this day, we're still friends, almost like nothing out of the ordinary had happened that night.

  However, telling it back to Carter didn't exactly feel like it was all in innocent fun. In my current tipsy state, I might have exaggerated a few details, my voice husky as I explained, in detail, how I ate her out while she sat on a bathroom countertop. When I'd finished, shrugging like it was no big deal, Carter licked his lips, cheeks flushed.

  "I think I would have remembered this particular story," he told me, his voice cracking. I smirked, eyes wandering his delectably muscular figure. Casual sex chats usually got me going, but detailed, graphic descriptions of something I'd done in the past? Ugh, definitely got me all hot and bothered.

  And, apparently, I wasn't the only one. As my dark brown eyes continued to wander Carter's body, my best friend processing everything I'd told him, I noticed a sizeable bulge straining against his pants. Fueled by the gods of alcohol and lust, I reached out and stroked him on a whim, my hand brushing the length of his dick from tip to base, then lightly cupping of his balls.

  We stared at each other for a moment, him slack-jawed and me smirking, until he muttered, "Aubrey… Did you just…?"

  "Yeah," I fired back, raising my eyebrows in a challenge. "What are you going to do about it?"

  There were a few seconds of silence, perhaps for the boundaries that we were about to cross as best friends. Once you crossed said boundaries, there was no going back, but as he grabbed my face and kissed me full on the mouth, I think we were both quite aware that there was no going back—not anymore. A boundary crossed. It was a line we’d been toeing around for years, yet it wasn't until that exact moment either of us had done anything about it.

  I inhaled sharply, gripping his shirt and dragging him as close as I could. He was warm, flushed with desire and, most likely, alcohol, and I held nothing back. I loved touching his body. I'd always done it before without the promise of anything more, but now I was able to explore to my heart's content and know that there would be something gratifying at the end of my quest. My hands wandered the peaks and ridges of his well-defined pecks and abs. He'd worked so hard on his body since we got to college almost four years ago, and I had to commend him for the transformation.

  Pushing me onto my back, Carter and I parted lips, tongues tangling as he tugged my woefully unattractive pajama pants down to my ankles. Once they were there, I kicked them off, thrusting my hips against his massive erection. The hardness dug into me as we ground our bodies together, each rub causing little tendrils of pleasure to shoot through me like lightning. I held nothing back, moaning and whispering his name whenever the urge struck me, not caring if anyone in the hall or next door heard us fucking. Let them here. Carter was a guy I'd be proud to show off as a notch on my bedpost.

  While people always talked about friends and fucking as being uncomfortable, I found nothing of the sort. We were just so… relaxed with one another. I knew his body, right down to the moles on his back and the faint freckles on his knees. He, meanwhile, had the unique advantage of knowing that I lost my mind when guys kissed my neck and that I liked to be pounded into from behind. The only part of his body that I was slightly unfamiliar with was the glorious cock that he pulled out of his pants.

  Thick and long, it was both intimidating and enticing, and I watched, fascinated, as he pumped his hand up and down the shaft a few times. All I wanted to do was sit him down and worship that glorious dick with my mouth, but that didn't seem to be in the cards today. In fact, for all my chatter about pussy licking and clit sucking, we were blazing right ahead to the main event. Hands frenzied, chests heaving, lips never leaving the other person—it was like this had been a long time coming, and we couldn't wait to take the plunge.

  I pushed his pants down as best I could from the angle I was at, my back arched as he nibbled the crook of my neck. Even though we'd only been at it a short while, I barely needed the foreplay: with all the sex talk beforehand and Carter's innate ability to touch me exactly as I wanted, I was more than good to go. Lifting my hips to him, I tried to pull him down and in with my ankles locked behind his back, but he managed to evade me.

  Instead, he slipped the tip in, slowly, cautiously, then pulled it out. I groaned, smacking him on the shoulder.

  "Don't be a fucking tease."

  "Where's the fun in that?" he asked, holding strong when I tried to pull him in again. This time, he pushed that glorious cock just a little bit further in, my pussy stretching to accommodate, before pulling back out. I growled, his name, reaching down to sort this mess out myself, but before I could get a proper grip on his slick shaft, he'd snagged my wrists and pinned them beside my head.

  "If you tell me patience if a virtue, I'm going to knee you in the balls," I warned, eyes narrowing as he held me down. He laughed, that warm, clear sound, making my skin prickle, and then rolled his eyes.

  "Good luck reaching them."

  He ducked out of the way when I tried, and in that moment rewarded my boldness by slamming his whole cock into me, all… well, it had to be pushing eight inches at least. All eight inches. In me. Filling me. Stretching me. Pain and pleasure mingled together, overpowering my ability to speak. He mimicked my wordless babbling, smirking in a way that made his sexy little dimple prominent.

  "Oh my god," I finally managed to get out, my hips rising and falling in tandem with his, the familiar pressure of mind blowing climax starting to build in my core. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

  "I don't know," he muttered, his pace slowly quickening. Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slamming into mine in a delicious rhythm that made me want to sing. Arms wrapped around one another, he took me hard and fast, our bodies sweaty and breath heated. My muscles clenched tight, my skin flushed with heat, and one final swirl of my hips—coupled with a sharp thrust from Carter—sent me over the edge. I saw stars as I fell, clinging tightly to him, arms and legs, while I plummeted into the hazy bliss of an orgasm so powerful that it left me breathless.

  I wasn't sure how it had happened. We weren't doing anything special—missionary wasn't exactly adventurous—but somehow it blew my mind. Perhaps it was the established connection, or maybe it was because it was Carter pounding into me over and over again. Whatever the case may be, I wasn't about to complain.

  As I laid there in a post-climax dream, my body slowly coming down from its incredible high, Carter's pace quickened until it finally stopped. I giggled at the way his face screwed, then kissed him when a look of embarrassment flashed across his features.

  Once we'd disentangled ourselves, I flitted off to the bathroom to clean up, and when I returned, Carter was wearing his boxers, two beers in hand. I accepted mine with a grin, unashamed to still be totally naked in front of him. It felt normal. Natural. Like this was how we were supposed to hang out.

  "You know," he said as I plopped down on the armchair, a little leery of sprawling out on the couch we'd just fucked, on, "we're going to have to have a talk about what just happened."

  I arched an eyebrow, then twisted off the cap of my beer bottle. Taking a long swig, the cold liquid wonderfully refreshing as it trickled down my throat, I cleared my throat and shook my head.

  "Not tonight," I said, my eyes wandering his body once more. "I think I'
ve got it in me to go again."

  We held one another's stare evenly, me drinking and him fidgeting, until he finally smiled and leaned back against the kitchen counter—my open concept was the only good thing about this shit-hole apartment.

  "Yeah, I think I could manage that."

  We held up our beers and toasted one another, and I could only imagine—gleefully—what the rest of the night had in store.

  Caught in the Act

  I needed a serious cold shower. Hurrying through the luxurious cabin, I eventually found my way back to my temporary bedroom and shut myself in. My chest heaved as I leaned back against the door, eyes shut, trying my hardest to get Carter out of my mind. He'd been on my brain ever since we fucked—a few times—the night we'd both finished our final exams for the school year. Here we were, almost a month later, and I couldn't stop thinking about him. Even here, on a stunning and secluded private island owned by a friend's family, in a cabin that cost close to a million dollars, I couldn't stop picturing us screwing.

  My best friend and I had decided, like mature adults, that we didn't want to ruin the friendship after our one night together. We'd known each other for too long to let something as trivial as sex come between us, so we shook on it, no more hooking up for the sake of our friendship. I didn't want to lose him, he didn't want to lose me, and I knew neither of us could stand the thought of our relationship disintegrating because we couldn't handle whatever feelings might develop because we were screwing each other's brains out.

  Unfortunately, just because we said we weren't going to fuck anymore, didn't mean I could stop daydreaming about it. Our night together had been some of the best sex I'd ever had—period. And considering I was still on a pretty substantial dry-spell in that department, it was almost painful to be around him as often as I was, all the while knowing we couldn't do anything more than an innocent hug. I knew it was for the best, but goddamn did I ever want him.