“Yes. Oh, yes. Oh, Mr. Lehman,” she whimpered as I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair.
No longer satisfied by holding her waist, I reached for her breast and gave each a squeeze, eliciting more moans from Janey. I held her flesh to my lips, determined to put as much of it in my mouth as I could so I could suck on her as I wished.
Janey didn’t try to stop as I alternately sucked and licked her breasts. Her hips started to move, to grind faster, letting me know that she liked what I was doing. Then I felt her hand stroking on my cock through the fabric of my pants. She reached behind her so she could touch my erection.
“You’re still tense Mr. Lehman. We have to do something about this,” she said in between heavy breaths as she gave the bulge a hard squeeze, causing me to groan. “I want to ride you, Mr. Lehman. Please let me ride you.”
I gave her left breast one last suck and released it with a popping sound before I looked up at her with a smile. She didn’t wait for my permission as she pulled away from me so she could pull the waist of my pants down, exposing a big, hard bulge covered by my blue boxers.
“Jesus,” I hissed as Janey stroked me, her light fingers making me impossibly harder.
“My, my, Mr. Lehman. No wonder you aren’t relaxed,” she murmured.
“Well, it’s your job to make me comfortable, right?” I asked in between grunts and curse words. “Do your job, Janey.”
Janey didn’t waste any time pulling down the elastic waistband of my boxers. My cock sprung from the fabric. It bobbed angrily before she clasped her hand around it.
She looked at it curiously and then she looked at me. “You’re too hot. We need–”
“What’s going on here?” asked another woman whose voice I’d never heard before.
Janey almost fell to the floor when I abruptly sat straight up. But she grabbed onto my shoulder just in time. We both looked in the direction of the door, and we both saw the owner of the voice. The woman wore eyeglasses, and she had an unbuttoned white coat over her tight-fitting dress. Her black hair was tied in a tight bun.
Shit. It was Dr. Crane.
Hands on her waist, she walked toward us, her expression unreadable. The clicks of her high heels echoed across the room.
“I’m ve–very sorry, ma’am,” I stuttered as I tried to think of what to say. “We were just–”
“Janey, do you have something to say?” she asked in a flat voice as she took off her white coat and placed it on a nearby table.
I looked at Janey as she answered the dentist. “I’ve prepared him for you, Dr. Crane.”
Janey smiled at her before she pulled away, leaving me on the dentist chair with my cock exposed. I looked back and forth at the two women. And I gulped as I watched Dr. Crane lift the hem at the sides of her dress and pulled down something from under the dress. She swayed her hips as she pulled and tossed a small red thong to the floor.
She stood beside me and reached for my chin, pulling it down with her thumb and index finger.
“Great teeth,” she murmured. “Nice cock.”
Without a word, she lifted the hem of her dress, exposing her smooth cunt. She straddled me just as Janey did a while ago. She squirmed as she tried to find a good position and then unbuttoned her dress and revealed an impressive pair of breasts.
I stared at her brown nipples, thinking how they contrasted with Janey’s pink ones. Dr. Crane smiled as she pulled my hand and drew it to one hard brown tip.
“I don’t like to wear bras during checkups,” she said as she guided my hands. “Play with me.”
Her eyes darkened with the soft command, and I didn’t think twice before obeying. Both my hands started playing with her as she asked. I pulled at her nipples and cupped her breasts after I squeezed them.
“Be sure to suck her, too,” Janey said. She had taken off her scrub pants and underwear and now stood naked beside me. “Dr. Crane loves it when she gets sucked.”
I chuckled before I dropped my head, intending to taste the good dentist’s boobs. I wasn’t one to leave a woman wanting.
“Is that right?” I asked as I tweaked her nipples. “Tell me what you want me to do, Dr. Crane.”
“Suck my tits please,” the dentist answered without hesitation. “I get so wet when I get sucked and licked.”
I did as I was told and gave Dr. Crane’s breasts the same treatment I gave Janey’s. Dr. Crane became wet all right. Her cunt rubbed against the underside of my cock as she moved her hips. She was getting worked up. Soon, she was moaning on top of me, her hips grinding madly.
“I need to fuck you,” she whispered as she reached a hand between our bodies. She pushed at my chest as she looked down and guided me to her entrance. She exhaled as she slowly lowered herself, her nails digging on my skin despite my shirt.
“Goodness, you’re thick,” she whispered as she lowered herself another inch. “So thick.”
I held her hips as her cunt engulfed my cock slowly. Dr. Crane arched her neck when I was fully inside her, and she let out a soft moan.
“Fuck,” I grunted as she started moving forward and backward. Both of my hands reached to grab her ass, intending to help her move faster, but Janey grabbed one of my wrists.
“Your fingers please,” she said, almost begging, as she placed my hand between her widespread legs. “Please.”
My mind reeled when I realized I was going to fuck two women, well, fuck one and finger-fuck the other actually.
“Awl. Poor Janey,” Dr. Crane said as she watched me slip a finger inside Janey’s aching cunt. “Recline the bed and ride our Mr. Lehman’s face, dear.”
They didn’t give me the chance to say anything. Janey excitedly moved away from my finger to recline the dentist’s chair. With my body fully horizontal, it was easy for Janey to straddle my face, facing Dr. Crane.
I could hardly breathe as Janey moved her cunt back and forth across my face. But I darted my tongue out every time I had the chance, swiping it across her folds. Both women were soon moaning and whimpering. Our movements caused the chair to shake, but we didn’t care.
“Oh god…I’m gonna come,” I vaguely heard Dr. Crane say between her grunts. “Oh my…Come with me Janey.”
“Just–just a little more… oh,” Janey replied. “Oh... please touch my clit, Dr. Crane. Mr. Lehman’s tongue can’t reach it.”
My body tensed as my own release started, ignited by the women’s conversation. Their bodies began to move more roughly against mine, heightening my pleasure. I parted Janey’s ass and licked the tight pink pucker between the cleave. That did the trick.
Both women came, their bodies tensing as they gasped and then let out long wails of ecstasy. I grunted as I thrust my hips upward, an instinctive reaction to Dr. Crane’s cunt’s spasms on my cock. Her pelvic muscles clenched as her orgasm claimed her. Janey fell forward right into the arms of Dr. Crane and away from my face, her thighs trembling.
I breathed through my mouth as I stared at the office’s ceiling. My heart was beating so fast, and my entire body still hummed with pleasure. Janey dismounted me and walked on trembling legs towards a chair while Dr. Crane, still partially dressed, sagged forward and rested her head on my chest. I was still inside her.
“You have great teeth Mr. Lehman, but you need a regular cleaning,” she said. “Will every Wednesday do?”
I smiled and placed my hands behind my head as I ran my tongue over my teeth. Ryan is going get a big Christmas present this year.
The Nice Girl
by Stephanie Silvers
Themes: rough sex; erotic romance
The black Adrianna Papell hangs so beautifully on the hanger, but it always takes twenty minutes of pulling, tugging and adjusting to get that dipping neck-line to pull right the top of my breasts and draw attention to both my curves and my style. Why don’t they sell eveningwear that doesn’t require an engineering degree and two hours a day at the gym to put it on? Black Carvela heels and just a dash of Tom Ford’s Black Violet behin
d each ear, a twist in the mirror and I’m ready. For what? For a wine-spritzed snooze-fest, that’s what. Valerie’s parties are always the dullest things my editor insists I attend.
“You never know who you might meet,” he says to me every time the invitation shows up at the magazine. “You could get an exclusive with a star, learn about a story from a mysterious dignitary, or find an open door to another Pulitzer just waiting behind a coat rack.”
“At Valerie’s penthouse? Are you kidding? At best I’ll meet a middle-aged hedge fund manager who wants to talk about interest rates while he spits cracker crumbs in my cleavage.”
Of course, the problem isn’t that I’m not meeting good story material while I’m chatting up Valerie’s rich, important friends. The problem is I’m not meeting good dating material. It’s been eight months since I broke it off with Trevor and while he was about as interesting in bed as a night of proofreading my tax return, I miss having someone there.
Poor, polite Trevor. He never got what he wanted because he didn’t know how to take it for himself. Always so full of compliments and compromise, he was intimidated by everything that set me apart. My height, red hair, college awards, journalism career, taste in wine – he felt everything put me one notch better than him on the scale. So he treated me like a precious jewel, practically apologizing every time we made love for his unworthy entry into my body. Obnoxiously caring, he was the perfect man until he left my state of arousal perfectly empty.
So, out with Trevor and back in with my fantasy lover. “D”, a high-school tool shop guy with big muscles, bad grades, and a reputation as every decent girl’s nightmare. He owned the halls he walked down and when he took his marker and scrawled a “D” on your locker, you were suddenly “in” with the pack. Unless you were a “nice girl.” Nice girls didn’t associate with D. What was his name? David? Denny? Dexter? I can’t recall. I just know one day he kissed me by the soda machines after gym and I’ve never recovered.
I saw the “D” on my desk in Chemistry and thought it was probably left over from some other girl. Then he passed me in the hall and whispered, “It’s you. I want you,” between classes. Was this some kind of joke? Was he crazy? I couldn’t date him! I came from high up the social ladder and he was a gutter rat from shop class who always had car grease on his hands.
The day he kissed me I was getting a soda when I saw one of his big dirty hands hit the button for me. Everything was a blur as he put an arm on each side of the machine and pulled his body up to mine. Before I could protest his lips were on mine. Surprisingly soft, he kissed my lips and pressed his mouth closer to mine. His lips were furtive, warm and wet. I opened to him instinctively, my body pulsing in a way I couldn’t understand. He pushed against me again, pinning me to the machine. His warm lips crushing and sucking at mine while his hips began to rock just a bit – just enough to let me know where any date with him would go. I broke it off before we went any farther.
“I’m a nice girl,” I said with a simmering tone of disgust acidic enough to repel his well toned legs away from mine. “I don’t date shop boys.”
D backed up, dropped his eyes with a disappointed shrug and ambled out of my life forever. Later, ten years worth of sloppy college fumbling, two unfulfilling near-engagements, and the unfortunate boredom of Trevor, D returned to my bed in my dreams. Night after night I relived that kiss feeling his body pressed up against mine, his bulge pushing against me in my fantasy while my fingers made the tugging rough circles around my clitoris for a self-sexed reality. By the time I had worked myself into the frenzy of a silent O in the night, it was D who spoke, not me. Pushing his rhythmic hips against my wet and wanting body the last words he said in my thoughts were always the same.
“I see you’re not a nice girl.”
“Amy!” Valerie’s shrill voice cut through the din of the party and jolted me out of my memory. “I have someone you need to meet.”
“No more, Val. I’m done.”
“Just one more, and don’t leave early. Just because you’re a star reporter doesn’t mean you have to be home by ten!”
“I’ve already met two bankers, a linguist, and a voice therapist,” I whine. I look in the direction she’s pointing and see the back of man that looks vaguely familiar. Nice suit, beautiful broad shoulders and confidence oozing out of his pores. “I want to meet him.”
“Who? Mr. Evans? No, Amy. He’s not for you.”
“Why not? He looks delicious.”
“He’s new money,” Valerie whispers as if she was telling me about some shameful new disease. “His company makes engines for Formula One cars. Evans Motorsports or something. He might be solid muscle under those tight black pants and his pockets are deep, but I’m sure his brain pan is shallow. Bill only keeps him around because he likes to talk about cars.”
“Take me to him,” I demand. Strong, smiling, and with enough swagger to at least keep the yawning party interesting, he is what the doctor ordered.
“Fine,” Val pushes out her pouting lips and pulls me toward the mystery man.
“Doug Evans, I want you to meet our friend…” Val stammers as Doug interrupts her.
“Amy Rose!” He booms triumphantly.
“Do you…um…know her?” Val stumbles through an introduction as she realizes it isn’t necessary. I look at his beautiful face. Deep brown eyes, chiseled jaw and perfect smile. I know him alright.
“Irish Amy Rose , hair so red it glows!” He recites that old school taunt like he’s been saying it every day for the last ten years. I smirk and take a second look. Then it hits me. Douglas Evans. Douglas. D.
“I forgot about that,” I say with coy laughter.
“Have you forgotten me?” He asks, reaching out with his finger and drawing a D on the condensation of my white wine glass.
“No, D. Not at all.” He moves closer to me while shutting out the rest of the party, and shutting down the rest of my world. Val gets the clue and flees into the kitchen mumbling about cheese balls.
“Long, long legs. Flowing red hair. Smart and saucy. I haven’t forgotten you either, Amy.” His eyes follow the length of my body, each area catching on fire as he notices it. “Your hair is a bit darker.”
“Your clothes are a lot better,” I counter then bite my tongue. How could I be such a rude bitch to a man I’ve been fantasizing about for years? “I mean, um, you, ah, look well.”
“Oh, I am doing well,” Doug says with a smile. “Not a gutter rat anymore.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I say with fake demur.
“Sure, you did.” He laughs and the air in the room turns electric. We talk for a bit about cars and journalism. He tells me about his rise to the top of the Formula One world, and I mention the interviews I’ve done. He reaches for a cracker on a passing tray, his brazen hand slightly rubbing across my breasts. My nipples rise and swell through the fabric.
“Excuse me,” he says with phony southern politeness. My face is red as the flush overtakes me.
“Can I get you more wine?” I offer as a way to flee from his presence long enough to adjust my dress and stop the visual proof of my shaken stimulation. He holds up his glass.
“Do you have anything better than this?”
“I can ask Val…”
“At your place?”
“Yes,” I answer too quickly, too breathlessly, too honestly.
“Then, let’s go.”
The cab ride is short, and his hand lingering on my thigh goes on forever. This is real. This is really happening. My stomach knots with nervous butterflies. What if I’m not what he wants? What if he’s a psycho? What if after all these years of fantasy he turns out to be disappointing? What will happen to my go-to arousal idea if this turns out to be the quick in and out with no real spark?
Walking through the door, he casually takes off his jacket and lays it over the back of the couch. His eyes scan the wall in the foyer displaying my most prestigious awards. Valerie always says I should take that down because
it intimidates the men who want to date me. Doug doesn’t seem unsettled in the slightest.
“Naughty, naughty,” Doug sneers with a deep chuckle. “Dirty dishes on the table.”
Oh my gosh! I didn’t expect to even remember anyone’s name from tonight let alone bring home a one-night-stand. My face changes from the pale pink flush of sexual arousal to the red burning hue of embarrassment.
“I was in a hurry and I…”
SMACK!
He stops my rambling with a quick smack on the rear. I turn to tell him I do not appreciate that kind of sexist behavior when he enfolds me in his arms, pushes me back against the wall and kisses me deeply taking me back – all the way back – to a fervent kiss on the schoolyard.
Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories (Over 400 Pages of Hot Sex) Page 4
