Black Lipstick Kisses

by Monica Belle

  It did a lot to improve my mood, but I knew I was going to have to get drunk. Stephen had already turned up, and watched with something approaching awe as I walked over to the Jaguar. He held the door for me, even if it was only to give himself a chance to pat my bottom as I climbed in. As he sat down beside me he was more than a little pink, having discovered I was knickerless.

  He was in the best of moods as we drove out of London, chatting happily about this and that, and never once mentioning his wife or any of the subjects that got him down. It was the same over dinner, in a cross between a restaurant and a pub somewhere deep in Kent. I couldn’t help but be infected by his mood, and with him driving I finished off nearly all of the wine, and two brandies afterwards.

  By the time we were ready to start back I was in the mood for sex, but not for heavy conversations. He was keen, snogging me and pawing my bottom in the car park, as eager as any teenage boyfriend, also feeling the shape of the corset beneath my dress. It was impossible not to respond, and there was a warm, ready feeling in my tummy as we drove.

  All Angels was nearer, and we went there without the need to discuss it. It was dark when we arrived, and cool, but not too cool to prevent me peeling off my dress for him as soon as we reached the shelter of the yew avenue. He just stared, drinking in the sight of me in the corset, bare chested and without panties, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as I twirled to show him my bottom.

  He immediately caught me from behind, cupping my breasts and rubbing himself against my bum cheeks as he nibbled at my neck and ear. I pulled away, giggling and full of mischief from his eagerness. He came after, in among the yews, walking straight past me as I had ducked down into the shadow of Eliza Dobson’s tomb. I could sense her disapproval, making me worse still, and as he turned around I jumped up, to push him back against the stone and nuzzle his cock through his trousers. He was already hard, too good an invitation to resist.

  I pulled him out, straight into my mouth, to make him groan in pleasure. His hands locked in my hair and he was fucking my mouth, easing himself in and out between my lips until I pulled back, not wanting him to come so quickly. He tried to hold on, to make me take him back in, but I sucked his balls quickly into my mouth and immediately danced back as he gasped in reaction. I was laughing as I skipped away, dodging among the tombs with him in pursuit, erect dick in hand for when he caught me.

  Of course I had to let him, by the Major’s tomb, which he bent me across and slid himself deep, fucking me even as I sensed the lecherous fingers on my bare flesh. They shared me, man and spirit, the one in me, the other fondling my breasts and legs. Stephen came in moments, splashing hot sperm across my bottom, and just as the first time down he went, to lick me to ecstasy from behind, his face buried between my bottom cheeks, his tongue doing wonders with my clit, even my bottom hole. All the while I imagined the Major pawing and groping at my body, chortling over the sheer rudeness of my behaviour, and my helpless ecstasy as I came.

  Somebody had passed the gates just as I cried out in orgasm, and Stephen and I were laughing as we ran for the vestry door, gathering my discarded dress up on the way. I didn’t bother to dress, but stayed as I was, delighting in being dressed to the nines yet with everything that mattered nude. He couldn’t get enough of me, his eyes fixed to my body as I moved about the room, his hands on my bottom or breasts or waist at every chance.

  He’d bought a bottle of champagne in the pub and we drank it together on the bed, leaving me more tipsy than ever, and more mischievous. I wanted sex again, and began to tease him, thinking of what I’d done with Snaz and reminding him how he’d spanked me in front of her, even telling him that he should have done the job properly and fucked me too, with her watching. It hit the spot, his face pink and his eyes bright as he responded.

  ‘So . . . so you’d do it in front of her, for real?’

  ‘Sure, why not?’

  ‘But together? Wouldn’t you mind? I mean . . .’

  ‘You are so repressed! You’d love it, though, wouldn’t you? How about spanking us together, two naughty little brats side by side, our bums all bare and rosy. Oh yes, you would love that, wouldn’t you? Or maybe you’d like to watch us together? A bit of girl on girl?’

  ‘Oh God, yes!’

  He snatched for me, but I rolled quickly away, laughing. It was so funny, just the state he was getting into, but it was going to get him hard again too, no question. I jumped up, to look down on him, his mouth wide with desire, his face red.

  ‘Come on, get it out and I’ll tell you what we’d do for you.’

  Immediately he was scrabbling at his fly, in near demented urgency. Out it came, already half stiff, but I resisted the urge to take him in my mouth again and posed, cool and aloof, looking down with amusement and just a trace of pretend contempt as he began to jerk at himself.

  ‘Oh, yes, you’d love it, you really would! I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen two girls together, have you? No? Too repressed, your generation, I suppose. How about two men? After all, you seem to like the taste of spunk.’

  ‘Never mind that. Tell me about you and Snaz. Would you . . . with her, really?’

  ‘Hmm . . . I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe not. She’s fun, and kind of cute. It might be nice to . . . to lick her pussy, right in front of you, the way you do me, her cute bum right in my face!’

  I stuck my tongue out as I finished, waggling it. He’d gone purple, the head of his cock as well as his face. I was grinning and laughing as I got down next to him, to take hold of his swollen shaft and pop it into my mouth, sucking firmly as I squeezed his balls. His hand found my bottom, stroking, slapping, pulling at my flesh to open me behind. A finger found my bottom hole, tickling, only to stop as I pulled up from his erection.

  ‘That got you going, didn’t it? You know something, under that cold, proper exterior, you must be the biggest pervert I’ve ever met. Spanking? Watching girls get off together? Any other little surprises you’ve got for me, maybe?’

  He made a gruff sound, as much a grunt as a laugh, and his voice was hoarse as he spoke.

  ‘Maybe . . . maybe I have. How about taking it the other way?’

  ‘The other way?’

  He was still pawing my bottom, and once again his finger touched my hole.

  ‘Up my bum!?’

  ‘Yes . . . you have the most beautiful bottom, Angel, I would love to . . .’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Now who’s repressed?’

  ‘No, I just . . . all right, if you want to be that dirty, let’s play for it.’

  ‘Not that again! Why can’t we just . . .’

  ‘Uh, uh!’

  I wagged my finger at him, only to gasp as the top joint of his popped into my bottom hole. It felt nice but I pulled away, keen to tease, not minding my bum entered so very much, but not wanting to feel the way I had after my first spanking. He grabbed for me again but I swung my leg over him, straddling his body with his rock hard erection beneath me. He moaned and reached down to try and put his cock in me, but I took his hands.

  ‘Oh no you don’t! You’re a bad boy, Stephen, to want to put your cock in my bottom, but I’m a bad girl, and you can, but if, and only if . . .’

  ‘OK, I’ll play! Pinball?’

  ‘No can do. I don’t have a computer here, and besides, you’re too good.’

  ‘Anything then, but make it quick!’

  ‘Quick? Oh I don’t know . . . how about a nice game of cricket, eh old chap?’

  ‘Angela!’

  ‘Oh, all right. Men, always in a hurry! OK, we’ll toss a coin, best of three.’

  ‘Fine . . . great . . . and if I lose?’

  ‘Simple. If you win you get to do it to me. If I win I get to do it to you. That’s fair.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. You don’t have anything to do it with!’

  ‘Oh don’t I?’

  I reached out to pluck one of the old altar candles from my dressing table, a shaft of cream-coloured
wax a good foot long and over an inch thick. He blanched slightly, his eyes wide, as if he’d finally decided I really was mad. His mouth opened but no sound came out. I cocked my head to one side, looking at him quizzically as I held the candle up.

  ‘Well?’

  His expression became slightly more fish-like. I put the candle down, turned very slowly, and stuck my bum out, sitting down on his cock once more as I peered back over my shoulder. His expression had become one of total awe – and pale like a ghost. I reached back and pulled my cheeks wide, stretching my bottom hole for his inspection, just an inch above the straining head of his erection. I wiggled on his cock, squirming my wet pussy right onto his flesh. The ghost swallowed.

  ‘All right. I’ll do it.’

  I was smiling as I climbed off. My pussy was aching to be filled, and the thought that it might be my bottom instead added a delicious sense of trepidation and naughtiness. I was wiggling deliberately as I walked across the room, Stephen’s eyes popping and fixed to my bum every step of the way as he nursed his erection. I bent to dig into my bag, making his view even ruder, and pulled out a fifty-pence piece.

  ‘You call.’

  ‘Tails. Hopefully yours.’

  I flipped the coin high, both of us looking up to watch it turn in the air, and down as I caught it and flipped it over onto the back of my hand – tails. My bottom hole twitched in anticipation and my throat was suddenly dry. Stephen grinned and began to tug more firmly at his cock.

  ‘Again.’

  ‘Tails again.’

  I flipped, caught, turned my hand up and felt a strong stab of relief and disappointment, all at the same time, as a head was revealed. I showed Stephen.

  ‘Heads it is. Last time.’

  My stomach was churning as I flipped the coin high, Stephen calling out tails right at the top of its flight. I caught it, my bottom hole pulsing and my heart hammering as I squatted down by Stephen and lifted my hand.

  ‘Oh shit.’

  His face had gone suddenly white, more ghost-like than ever as he gaped at the coin on my hand, with the head showing plain in the light. Again I felt a stab of disappointment, but triumph too, and I was grinning as I stood up. As I took the candle Stephen began to babble.

  ‘I . . . I really don’t know if I can – physically, I mean.’

  ‘You expect me to.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but . . . but . . .’

  ‘But I’m a girl?’

  ‘No . . . yes, dammit! You’re a girl, you . . . you’re designed to take it.’

  ‘Not up my bum, anymore than you are.’

  He was not getting off. If I’d lost I knew I’d have taken it, down on my knees with his big erection up my bottom, however painful and undignified it was. I’d won.

  ‘Yes, but . . . but you . . . you’re so beautiful, so lovely . . . the corset really brings out the shape of your bottom, and well, I’m nothing special. It should be you!’

  ‘Stephen, darling, it really is time you got over these old-fashioned ideas. It’s terribly dull, after all. It doesn’t matter a bit if my bottom is prettier than yours. Besides, you have a nice bottom, good and firm, and if you feel I should be prepared to take your cock up my bottom, then surely you see that you should be prepared to take something equally large up yours, if it amuses me, and it does.’

  ‘No, I mean, yes, technically, but . . . but it’s a homosexual act for goodness sake!’

  ‘Nonsense! Do you see any other men around? I don’t. Besides, I thought you might be quite into that?’

  ‘Me? Good heavens, no!’

  ‘I’m not quite sure you’re telling the truth, but never mind. For now, it’s just me and the candle. Down you go.’

  ‘But . . . but . . .’

  ‘Stephen Byrne, you will get on your knees now, just the way you like me, everything showing. Then I’m going to stick this candle up your bottom, nice and slowly so it doesn’t hurt, and I’m going to bugger you. That or you go now!’

  He could have refused, walked out and never come back. My difficulties with Michael would have been solved, but it was not what I wanted. He hesitated, for a moment I thought he was going to back out and disappointment began to well up, only for him to suddenly make a wry face and roll over, buttocks up. My disappointment vanished, replaced by a truly wicked urge, to really deal with him properly.

  ‘Kneel up, I said, I want to see, just like you like to see.’

  For a moment he looked back, doubt showing in his eyes, then he had closed them and was going up, leaving his cocks and balls hanging beneath his legs and his bottom open and ready. I went for the chrism oil, watching him as I smeared it over the rounded base of the candle. It was a little big for a bottom hole, as I knew from experience, but he was just going to have to put up with that.

  His eyes stayed closed, and he was trembling badly as I knelt down beside him. A shiver ran the full length of his body as I touched the candle between his cheeks, and he gasped as I smeared the thick oil between them and onto his anus. His muscle tightened in reaction and I found my mouth twitching up into a cruel grin as I pressed. Again he gasped, and again his hole went tight, struggling to keep me out.

  ‘None of that, Stephen! Relax.’

  ‘Ah! It won’t go, Angel . . . it won’t!’

  ‘Oh yes it will, just relax.’

  He gave a little sob and shook his head, but made no effort to pull away as I pushed again, and felt a wonderful, savage exhilaration as it slid deep up his bottom. He cried out, a loud gasp, but there was no pain in it, and he was immediately shaking his head and panting as I began to feed the candle in and out, as if he couldn’t come to terms with what he was feeling. I wanted to laugh, and to come while I did it to him, and to watch him come too. It was just so satisfying, and there was no reason to hurry, at all. I stopped, holding the candle deep in.

  ‘There. Does it feel good?’

  He didn’t respond, his head hung low, his fingers bent, clutching at the bed. His erection had gone down a little, and I wasn’t having that, so I slid a hand under his stomach and down, to take the silky soft pouch of his balls in my hand, stroking, then his cock, still heavy with blood. He was growing instantly, and sobbing as his penis swelled once more, quickly reaching full erection in my hand. I laughed at his blatant excitement and began to tug more firmly, and to push the candle in and out again. He began to whimper as he was buggered, then to pant, his erection now a solid bar in my hand, his balls tight in their sac. My pussy was aching, but I knew what I wanted to do, to come as I watched him in his helpless ecstasy, and to know.

  ‘Tell me how good it feels, Stephen . . . tell me!’

  He shook his head, but he was panting, and more as I stuffed the candle deeper in for his trouble.

  ‘Tell me, Stephen! I know it’s good for you, I know it is, but I want to hear it, I want you to tell me!’

  All he managed was a groan, but as I began to push harder still he suddenly began to nod, and to gasp and pant again, more urgently than before. Suddenly I could no longer hold back my laughter. I was cackling like some kind of demented witch as I buggered him and played with his cock, and suddenly he was babbling.

  ‘Yes, Angel. I do, I do. Make it harder . . . deep in me, really deep . . . and . . . and . . . oh God, you’re wonderful. Bugger me, Angel, hard, really hard.’

  I pushed the candle home, now jerking furiously on his cock, in pure, wicked elation as his buttocks began to tighten and his gasps took on the urgent, uncontrolled note of climax, words still spilling from his mouth.

  ‘Yes, use me . . . hurt me . . . bugger me . . . really use me. Oh that feels so good.’

  He grunted, his body tightened and his cock jerked, spraying come over my hand and the bed to the sound of my truly demented laughter. Even as he slumped down I was snatching at myself, determined to come, then and there, while he still had the thick candle shaft sticking out from between his buttocks and his face set in shame and ecstasy. He made to move, but I pushed him down with m
y boot, spreading my thighs wide as my hand went between my legs as he looked round.

  His eyes came wide, staring at me as I began to masturbate, rubbing at myself in frenzied pleasure, my eyes fixed on the thick candle shaft between his buttocks, my mind on what I’d done to him, buggered him, reduced him to grovelling, squirming ecstasy at the penetration of his anus.

  I cried out as I came, loud and high, breaking to a gasp as my body went into spasm, my pussy and bottom clenching over and over, my breasts bouncing in the corset’s cups, and Stephen staring, his eyes wide, his jaw slack in reaction to what I had done to him.

  I didn’t tell him that it was over between us, I just couldn’t. He was in a seriously vulnerable state, and wanted to talk about it, to express his feelings, and to understand mine. It was hard to know what to say, because for all my arousal a great deal of my pleasure had come from penetrating a male, as much as an abstract thing as a physical one. It had felt good to put something into him as he liked to into me. It had felt good to know I was riding roughshod over what had to be a powerful taboo for him, something he saw as a homosexual act for all that he wanted it, but I didn’t feel I could ask him just what else he might want, deep down. It had felt good to be wicked too, dirty, a demented little witch, a real witch from Hell.

  What I told him was a half-truth, that doing it had made me feel empowered, and also uninhibited because he himself was being uninhibited. That made him feel a lot better, enough for him to put me across his knee and spank my bottom in revenge before we finally went to sleep.

  It was impossible not to feel good in the morning. We’d shared a night of wonderfully rude, open sex, holding back nothing, and in the morning he was more attentive to me than ever, making coffee and toast, then going out for chocolate croissants and milk and cereal and dog food, everything I needed as I lay back and relaxed.

  Again I was unable to say anything, and I didn’t want to. Instead I wanted them both, to share me, to take turns, whatever. It could have been so good, if only, but I simply could not be certain of Michael’s reaction. When I had jokingly suggested an open relationship he had turned it around on me, but I couldn’t be sure he had been joking. He certainly liked the idea of a man being buggered, as I’d seen with the Goat of Mendes. Possibly he would be up for it, or at least would be up for it if he didn’t feel he was getting the raw end of the deal.