by Jean Roberta
Dante curved his hands over my breasts and squeezed them lightly. I could tell from his voice that he was looking down at them. “I got a dildo,” he said. “It’s made out of silicon. I thought I might try it. In my ass. If you wanted.”
Marcus started sliding his cock along the crack of my ass. I knew he was listening. Did that excite him? Did he want to fuck another man in the ass with a dildo? The thought had never occurred to me; I thought of dildos as something for women, had toyed with the thought of getting one but in the end sticking with my vibrator.
I thought about fucking Dante with a dildo, being the one doing to someone else for once, and my pussy creamed. Could I do that? Could I do it without screwing up and doing some stupid blind thing?
I tried to remind myself I was safe here, but it wasn’t as easy as usual. I came here and did what I did, but I usually didn’t do anything different. People knew what I liked.
Maybe I would like this. Maybe I would like it a lot. But I didn’t want to screw it up. “Marcus,” I said. “Marcus, will you help us?”
His cock slid to a halt in the small of my back. He leaned into me, sweaty chest and coarse hair against my shoulder blades, his mouth against my ear. “Oh, Becca,” he said. “Can I fuck you first?”
I really wanted that huge cock splitting open my pussy lips and driving deep inside me, stretching me to the edge of my endurance, but if I did that now, afterward I would want to sleep, and Dante would find someone else. “After,” I said, my heart speeding up. I hardly ever turned anyone down.
“Damn, you’re killing me,” Marcus said. “Okay, Dante?”
I could feel Dante’s cock against my belly, giving little jerks and twitches. It seemed very much okay with him.
Dante stretched out on a pile of pillows and I stroked his spine, letting my hand stop on the rise of his ass. I decided straddling his legs would work better, so I did that, and held out my left hand for the dildo. Marcus gave it to me, covered with a condom and slippery with lubricant. I held out my other hand and he fitted on a latex glove, turned my hand over, and poured lubricant into the palm. Some of it dripped on Dante’s back as I closed my hand to spread the lubricant all over my fingers, and Dante made a little noise. I liked that noise. I wanted him to make a lot more noise, so I would know exactly what I was doing to him.
“Keep the lube ready,” I said to Marcus, who was sitting beside me. I could feel his hot cock against my thigh.
He ran his hand down my back. It was slick, and I shivered a little as the air hit the wetness. Marcus didn’t say anything, just patted my ass and took his hand away. “Dante, don’t move,” I said.
“Fuck,” he said, his voice muffled by pillows. “Fuck, this is hot.”
“She hasn’t even done anything yet,” Marcus said. His voice sounded strained.
“Just wait until it’s you,” Dante said.
I wanted to massage Dante’s ass cheeks, but I had the dildo in one hand and a lubed glove on the other. I should have thought of that before. I would do it next time. I definitely wanted there to be a next time.
“Hold this for now,” I said to Marcus, giving him the dildo.
I knew Dante’s ass was right below me, just in front. I lowered my ungloved hand and very lightly traced until I found the crack and pulled my finger down it, forcing his cheeks apart. I rubbed the exposed skin with my gloved hand, leaving a wet trail behind. Dante’s legs heaved a little and I clenched them with my thighs. I could probably find his hole by pressing in with my finger until something gave – and there it was. My pulse was thumping in my ears as I pressed a little harder and felt the rim of his hole grip my fingertip like tiny lips. It felt strange but very, very intimate; suddenly the tip of my finger was the most important part of me.
Dante gasped. “Stop?” I asked.
“No!”
I felt Marcus’ hands in my hair, pulling it out of my face and letting it fall.
It took a while for me to get my finger in all the way. I imagined it was a cock fucking a tight pussy and pushed it in smoothly and pulled out a little bit, not all the way so he wouldn’t close up, pushing in a little more each time, listening to Dante’s breathing get faster and deeper, and feeling Marcus’ hot breath and skin: he was leaning over my shoulder, so close his hair tangled with mine. Every once in a while, he would slide his hand past my belly and squirt some more lubricant onto Dante’s ass.
Each time I got in as far as I could reach, Dante would clench up and I’d be stuck for a moment, but if I waited, his muscle would relax and I could slide in a little more and he would make a whimpering sound that stabbed in my belly. The next time I could push in a little more.
After I added another finger, I had to stop for a minute and catch my breath. I was creaming all over Dante’s legs; I could smell my own fragrance rising off his skin and mine.
I moved my two fingers faster than before, twisting them a little each time, then scissoring them open, making Dante stretch. He was grunting with each thrust now, just at the edge of my hearing. I added a third finger and worked him as hard as I dared, wondering if I could make him come just from this. I moaned myself at the thought.
It took me a moment to realise Marcus was speaking to me. “You can put in the dildo now. He wants it bad.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted his advice, but I wouldn’t refuse it. In fact, I liked that Marcus was into this. “Dante, do you want me to use the dildo now? Do you want me to fuck you with the dildo?”
“Please, Becca,” Dante said.
Marcus said, “Curl your fingers, if you can.” I did this as he spoke. “Reach up and forward–”
Dante convulsed and groaned, then froze, a man trying really hard not to come.
“That’s his prostate gland, I bet,” Marcus said. “Try and hit that.”
“Damn it,” Dante gasped.
“Marcus,” I said. “Tell me what he looks like, with my fingers in his ass.”
Marcus grabbed my left hand, the one with no glove, and put it on his cock. Even through latex, he felt scalding hot and harder than the dildo. “Rub it while I tell you,” he said. “Dante! You want to know what you look like?”
“Hurry the hell up,” Dante said.
“I bet you like waiting,” Marcus said. “He’s sweating, Becca – can you smell it?”
The whole room smelled like sweat, but Dante’s – and Marcus’ – was closer. “Yes.”
“He’s got his hands full of pillows and he’s squeezing them like you’re squeezing my cock. His shoulders are all clenched up and he’s pressing his forehead into a pillow like that’s going to make him come.”
I knew that feeling. I twisted my fingers a little inside Dante’s ass and felt him clench hard.
Marcus said, “And he’s humping a pillow, just a little. Naughty,” he said, and I heard a smack, and felt the vibration of his hand hitting Dante’s ass cheek.
“Hurry up!” Dante said.
I gave Marcus’ cock one last long stroke, feeling him arch to follow it, like a cat. Then I held out my hand for the dildo.
Marcus gloved my hand first, then lubed it, and finally laid the dildo across my palm. It was shorter than a real cock, and less thick, but it had a realistic shape, circumcised and with a ridge down the back. At the back end, it flared out into a base. Marcus said, “That’s to fit it into a harness,” and I shuddered, thinking of what that might feel like.
Dante was waiting. I considered how to get the thing into him and finally decided to hold his rim open with my fingers and work the dildo in from there, working my fingers out gradually. This worked. At least, Dante huffed and groaned and said, “More!” whenever I asked.
At last, the base was pressed flat against his ass, and the dildo was all the way in. I pulled down on it, hoping to bump his prostate again, and was rewarded by a deeper groan than I’d heard yet. “Oh, yeah,” Marcus whispered in my ear. “Keep it up. Don’t pull it out, just ride it.”
Marcus got behind me, straddling Dant
e’s legs, and rocked his cock against my back while I worked the dildo in Dante. Dante sounded like he was dying with every push, and I could feel him straining up off the pillows, trying to drive the dildo in further, like me when I was getting fucked. I wanted to fuck him fast and hard, yank it out and jam it in – was that how men felt? – but I couldn’t because it would hurt him. I settled for pushing the base of the dildo a little harder, and a little harder, until Dante was coming, for sure he was coming, he screamed. I’d never heard a man scream like that.
“Fuck,” Marcus said. “Can I fuck you now? Right now?”
“Please,” I gasped, falling forward onto Dante’s heaving back as Marcus manhandled my hips and plunged into my pussy. I was coming before he was all the way in, and it only took him three hard, short strokes.
We lay there, all three of us in a pile, gasping, then Marcus pulled out and rolled off me, and I scrambled off Dante, who weakly threw his arm over me.
Dante said, sleepily, “We’re doing that again. Right?”
“Right,” Marcus said.
“Next time Marcus is going to fuck you,” I said.
The Librarian
by Eva Hore
‘Hi Sheila, it’s just me,’ I said, bursting through the front door. I was running late for a dinner date with my sister, Christine.
I stopped dead in my tracks as I spied her coming out of the bathroom. I’d never seen her looking so hot. She nervously brushed a few wisps of hair that had escaped from beneath a towel that was twisted into a turban on her head, clearly unnerved that I’d seen what she was wearing.
‘I … er …I didn’t expect you home so early,’ she stuttered.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her stunning figure. She was wearing a red and black teddy underneath her robe. It was open, revealing her amazing body. She had beautiful ebony skin and the red complemented her, turning her into a vibrant vamp.
‘I forgot something,’ I said, still staring at her breasts.
She pulled the robe tight around her body and rushed into her bedroom. I stood there looking after her. In the twelve months we’d shared this apartment, not once had I seen her go out on a date, yet these last five Fridays, whenever I got home, she was never here and didn’t arrive back until Sunday morning.
When I’d asked her where she’d been, she just said she’d been out with some old school friends. I suggested she bring them around here one Friday. I said I’d love to meet them, but she just ignored me.
I was a snoop by nature and the fact that she had that sexy teddy on didn’t fool me. Normally she dressed very conservatively. She was a librarian and believe me, usually she looked the part. Hair pulled up in a bun, horn-rimmed glasses. She looked and acted like a mouse.
On the weekends prior she would just bum around in tracksuits and sloppy clothes. She always had her nose in a book. I must admit I didn’t have much time for her, always busy with my own life. I had no idea she was so horny-looking.
She was seeing someone, but who? And why the secrecy?
‘See you,’ she yelled, as she passed my door.
I felt so alone when she left. I lay on my bed thinking about her. Dinner with Christine now seemed such a chore whereas before I was looking forward to it.
‘Can we skip dinner?’ I asked Christine when she answered her phone.
‘Yeah, why?’ she said.
‘Oh, I just don’t feel like it that’s all,’ I said.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, it’s just that…it’s...’
Christine knew I had a crush on Sheila. She’d already told me to either tell her or get over it.
‘It’s what?’ she pried.
‘It’s Sheila. She’s going out again tonight and I caught her coming out of the bathroom wearing a very sexy teddy,’ I blurted out.
‘So what! Leave the girl alone. You have to get over this obsession you have with her,’ she said.
‘I’m not obsessing. I’m just curious. Don’t you think it’s strange, her spending all those weekends away and not telling me anything.’
‘I think you’re strange. She doesn’t have to tell you anything. You’re not her mother. Don’t bug her about it. It’s her own business. I’ve got another call. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ she said hanging up.
I rolled over burying my face in the pillow. I didn’t care what she said. I wanted to know what she was up to. Many thoughts and scenarios rushed through my mind. I lay there thinking hard, wondering where she was and what she was up to.
I imagined that I’d followed her out, watched as she ran down the steps, her long hair trailing after her. She’d hop into a cab and her coat would ride up so I’d be able to see the tops of her stockings. Stockings meant suspenders and suspenders meant no ugly pantyhose.
I’d keep my distance as the taxi sped through the quiet streets. It would stop in a seedy part of town where there were old warehouses. I’d cut my lights and idled along, just like in the movies. When she knocks on a door someone wearing a dark robe will answer it.
I can’t see what the person looks like as the light from inside the room shadows his face. She slips inside and I’m left to wonder what to do next. I decide to cruise by slowly; my lights still off and park just around the corner of the building.
What would happen next?
Faint music would be coming from inside. There are windows but they are too high for me to see into. Skirting around the back I’d find an old milk crate. I take it with me back to a window and balance carefully on it. I’m able to peer inside, just between the crack of the curtain.
This room is a dining room. A huge wooden table dominates the room with large, ornate chairs that could seat about twenty people. Nothing at all mysterious about this room, quite boring actually and then I see someone walk past the room so I’d pull back on instinct, become more interested and grab my crate and go to the other side.
Can’t have my fantasy too boring. I’d have to make it more exciting.
This room would be nothing like the other. This one is decked out with what looks like thick and luxurious carpet, with deep mahogany furniture and plush red velvet covers. There is a huge chair, more like a throne, placed at the centre of one of the walls. Small tables and armchairs are scattered about the room.
Large wooden posts are attached to the ceiling at the same end as the throne and there is a crate or cage with wooden bars nearby, an array of whips adorn the wall and in a glass cabinet I spy dildos, vibrators and other interesting toys.
Yes, that gives it a definite intriguing atmosphere.
Voices alert me to the doorway. Sheila is leading the way, wearing a long purple robe. As she walks, the gown parts and underneath I see she is still wearing the sexy teddy and definitely stockings and suspenders. Her hair is draped around her like a shawl. Even from this distance I’ll be able to see she has her face beautifully made up and as she heads for the throne, others will enter the room. All will be women.
Sheila will be the only one in purple. She’ll stand out, look special. Some will have black, some red and two girls will sit at Sheila’s feet wearing white tunics, white see through tunics. I’ll peer harder, nearly topple off the crate to see if either of them are wearing underwear.
They won’t! Dark nipples will stand out like beacons as the girls cross their legs to sit on the floor. Most of the armchairs will be taken up. Waitresses, dressed only in a short apron and nothing else, their breasts swaying as they walk will enter as well as two men wearing tight leather pants and no shirts. They’ll stand on either side of the girls who are at Sheila’s feet, their arms crossed, muscles flexed.
My pussy throbs as I plan which way to go from here.
I’d be intrigued for many reasons. Firstly, that Sheila would be the head of anything as she is normally such a mouse. Secondly, that women would dominate this room. They’d have to be part of some sort of association, which definitely has nothing to do with the library association. Thirdly, naked female waitresse
s will serve drinks to women who slap them on the arse or pinch their breasts. They’ll be so submissive that they show no reaction.
My hand steals down to my pussy and I feel the heat emancipating from there and I smile. This is the randiest I’ve felt for ages.
I can’t hear what is being said, the walls would obviously be sound-proofed to keep away nosy people like me and I can’t even imagine what they would say anyway. The two men will walk from the room and minutes later come back, both holding the arm of a beautiful young woman who they stand in front of Sheila.
I need to add some drama to this.
Some sort of heated argument will ensue and their body language will be tense. The woman will struggle to move away but the men will hold her firmly in their grasp. Sheila will approach the woman, look her up and down as though she is for sale. One of the girls who had been at her feet will hand her a cushion. Something will be resting on it.
It will be a knife.
Sheila will run the blunt edge of the knife down the side of the girl’s face, over her neck and the swell of her breasts. Then down and under her shirt where with one quick upward motion she’ll slice off the buttons and the shirt will fall open. The two men will rip it from her arms and discard it onto the floor.
I really should get into this sort of stuff; it’s definitely a turn on.
Now they’ll hold her arms more firmly as she begins to struggle. I’ll watch mesmerized, as the knife moves under her bra straps and slices through them. Her bra will fall forward exposing a luscious pair of breasts. Now Sheila will trace the knife around her nipples before lowering her head to suck one into her mouth.
She’ll laugh while the girl struggles against the men. One of the girls in the white tunic will remove the woman’s skirt until she is standing in only her panties and cut up bra. Her gorgeous breasts will be heaving as she continues to struggle.
