It had to be due to me thinking of a man touching me, I’m straight. I would not, could not be, interested in a woman in that way. Her hands were warm and she pushed in on my belly, instructing me to take a deep breath and pull my belly in. My tits rose higher when I did. Would she touch them? I hoped so, even as I hoped she wouldn’t.
The rest of the workout was a blur, my muscles ached and my eyes kept going back to her ass cheeks, neatly outlined by the tight red workout capris she wore. Her ass flexed and moved as she bent and stretched and when she walked behind me I tightened my own ass cheeks instinctively so they would look less wiggly.
“Relax,” Janelle said as her hand rested on the small of my back, in the shallow indentation where the little bundle of nerves lies, “Unclench and move.”
Shivers ran over my body but I did as she said.
She said, “Good,” and removed her hand.
***
When I got home and I ran a hot tub of water; my legs and arms burned and throbbed from the unaccustomed exercise. I poured half of a bottle of lilac scented bath oil into the steaming water and sank into it gratefully, closing my eyes.
I wonder how Janelle would look naked? My eyes jerked back open but the image persisted. My hand moved to my pussy, rubbing at the swollen bud of my clit, until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I came almost immediately. Afterwards, I lay in the water torn between being embarrassed at my improper fantasy and excited about the next time I’d see Janelle again.
It has to be because I haven’t had sex in so long, I told myself, Riley barely touched me those last two years and I haven’t even dated at all since he left. I need to go out more, to find a man I can talk to and that I am attracted to. Thinking about Janelle is okay, it was just a fantasy, I would never really have sex with her, or any woman.
***
The sessions with Janelle continued and every day I could feel my body changing. I lost ten pounds and went on a bit of a spending spree, buying clothes for beauty and color and style instead of for durability and cost for a change. My co-workers at the office noticed and a handsome guy in one of my classes invited me to coffee. It didn’t pan out to anything else but it made me feel a lot better. There was a new spring in my step, a smile on my face and I took to wearing lipstick and mascara for the first time in years.
I made it to the gym late one afternoon, an hour before closing, and saw that most of the crowd had already gone. Weekends were always slow but on that Saturday there were literally only three people in the place, myself included.
I finished up a half hour of weight training with Janelle and got on the treadmill for another half hour. When I finished and headed to the locker room to change the whole place hung silent and deserted around me.
I had planned to go to an outdoor concert so I had clothes with me and I ducked into the shower, letting the spray wash away the sweat. Since there was nobody else about I forgot my manners and stepped out of the tiny and cramped shower to dress instead of putting on my clothes inside of it.
“Your body has really changed a lot, and so fast too.”
Startled, I jumped and spun around. Janelle was leaning against the far wall, her green eyes staring at me with undisguised appreciation.
“Uh, thanks.”
She came closer and sweat broke out on my upper lip. The fantasies I had had about her had not abated as time had passed, they had just gotten more intense. I had considered removing myself from her client list but I never had. I didn’t want to ask myself why.
Her fingers stroked the side of my waist and a shiver ran up and down my spine. My nipples tightened and I fought to take a deep breath. Every instinct said to back away but instead I leaned into her.
Her arms came up and around me. She was taller than me, by an inch or so, and her tight body felt so solid and good against mine. My breasts were crushed against hers; my skin looked so pale and fragile against the dark black of her workout tank. Her own small and perky tits made shallow mounds against the tank’s stretchy fabric.
“You have such nice nipples,” she murmured and her thumb ran over one. The bud tautened and I made a small low sound in my throat. She took that as encouragement, and it was. She pressed her face to mine and then she kissed me.
Her lips were soft, they yielded and yet demanded. Her tongue came out, lightning quick, and darted into my mouth. Flicking against my teeth and then my own tongue rose to meet hers. We wrestled and dipped for a few minutes, exploring each other’s mouths while lust made my crotch ache and throb.
Sticky fluid dripped out of my slit and made me squirm. Janelle’s mouth parted from mine and moved lower, she took one of my nipples into her mouth and suckled on it while her tongue ran across and around it. Her hands kneaded the flesh surrounding my nipple. I whimpered, my hips jerking forward in a silent and involuntary plea.
Disbelief filled me. I had fantasized about the very thing we were doing, but fantasies were harmless. Actually being touched by a woman the way Janelle was touching me was taboo, a thought that turned me on even more.
Janelle murmured, “I want to taste your pussy,” and I felt a spasm of desire wrack my entire being. “Can I do that?”
No, I said in my mind but I answered with a yes. She laid me down on the long bench that ran beside a set of lockers and knelt on the floor between my spread thighs.
Her hands stroked and caressed my delicate labia, her fingers parting them while her tongue slid against the wet slit that lay hidden there.
She used her tongue to stroke every single fold and crease. I whimpered and moaned in surrender as her nimble fingers slid inside my hot channel, first one then a second. She began a slow but intense rhythm with those fingers, pumping my pussy full of heat and friction.
Her tongue slid upwards, moving against my clit. She made small circles there, her hot breath tickling the skin at the top of my mound. Tremors began in my inner thighs and spread, my ass began to jerk and I dug my heels into the bench, straining to get as much pleasure and penetration as possible.
“You taste so sweet,” Janelle whispered against my pussy. “I knew you would.”
How had she known? Had she known I would let her do that to me the whole time?
An orgasm crashed through me. My pussy clenched and unclenched on her fingers and hot spurts of my cum dripped from her chin, she wiped her face on a towel she grabbed from the rack that stood nearby while I struggled to sit back up and collect myself.
“Wait,” she said as she opened a locker.
I waited. She opened a bag and brought out a strange looking contraption, a series of strips of leather connected by buckles that all ended in a small front piece with a hole in it.
“I want to fuck you,” she said calmly. “I want to be deep inside you, do you want that?”
I did. “Yes,” I had no idea how she was going to manage to fuck me but I wanted to find out.
She slid her shorts off to reveal narrow hips and a pubic mound covered by thin red hair that matched the hair on her head perfectly. She buckled the contraption mostly on and reached back into the bag, pulling out a long thick dildo, which she placed through the hole in the front piece. She finished buckling it and then she grinned at my expression.
I had never seen anything so sexy. Her womanly body contrasted starkly against the hard curve of the cock, making me feel strange and hot all at once. It was so wrong, but it was right and when she knelt on the bench and teased the cock against my wet lips I let out a small groan of agreement that made her smile.
She entered me with one hard thrust, her hips pushing forward. The dildo filled me entirely, I had to stretch a bit to accommodate it and the sensation was incredible.
“Fuck me back,” she said into my ear then her teeth nipped at my lobe.
I did. I arched and fell back in time to her driving movements. Friction and heat built and bloomed inside my pussy. The dildo was hard, heavy and solid inside my walls. Juices, oddly chilly, dripped down my ass crack and puddled onto the bench below us. My fee
t bumped against the small of her back when I wrapped my legs around her, desperate to keep her in place, to keep her fucking me.
“Oh I’m going to come again!” I cried and Janelle rocked her hips harder, moving from side to side to provide even more pleasure for the both of us.
“Me too,” she panted in my ear. “Come with me; come on this hard cock that’s fucking you.”
I did. I came in hard gush that left me limp and she came as well, her body collapsed on top of mine for a few minutes and we lay there together, cuddling but not speaking.
She got up and helped me to my feet. I was horrified and embarrassed; I didn’t know what to say as she cleaned the dildo and put it away. I ducked back into the shower, hoping when I got out she would be gone and I dressed in there as well.
When I finally did emerge she was standing there, a sleepy and pleased expression on her face.
“Have a good Sunday,” she said in cordial tone, “I am forever grateful that we are closed on Sundays. I have you scheduled for a one o’ clock on Monday, by the way.’
I bit my lip, my membership was up for renewal and I was not sure if I wanted to, or even would be able to, work out with Janelle ever again. It was too much to think about so I murmured an okay and dashed out of the deserted gym.
***
Monday afternoon I pulled my car up in front of the gym and got out, checking my watch as I did. It was twelve fifty four. A grin crossed my lips as I walked to the door and opened it, after a whole weekend spent wondering just what I had done I had come to the conclusion that I was still straight but I was also a healthy and very single woman who could do whatever I wanted. There was nothing wrong with getting laid, especially not if the person laying me was a gorgeous personal trainer.
The Stakeout
by Stephanie Silvers
Themes: rough sex; erotic romance
Detective Mel Cooper arched her back, pressed ‘pause’ and rested her blurry eyes. It had been a long, restless night and staring at another boring hour of surveillance footage of their subject, mobster Sal Amato, didn’t exactly help matters much.
She looked away from the video of the mob boss’s crash pad and craned her neck, looking around the cheap hotel room that was to be her ‘office’ for the remainder of the week: the bad clown paintings on the wall, the dim lighting, the tangle of Chinese takeout containers on every available surface space, candy bar wrappers, and empty soda cans on the small table by the door.
Her partner, Sergeant Jake Hawkins, snored fitfully in the single bed behind her. He’d been on surveillance duty the night before, and she owed him that much after watching the crash pad across the way for nearly 18-hours straight.
She eyed him carefully, a lazy grin sliding across her young, unlined face. He was wearing black jeans and a snug gray V-neck T-shirt, which had shifted during sleep to reveal his pale, narrow waist and the band of his gray boxer briefs.
She licked her lips in the sweltering heat and admired the rest of him, the long, taut arms, the chiseled chin with three days of stubble, the close cropped black hair covering his masculine head. His eyes were closed now but, when open, they were a mysteriously dark hazel.
Though he was her senior on this stakeout, and back in the Vice squad as well, he was barely a year older than she was and both were barely out of their twenties. He looked much younger sleeping there now, despite the gruff exterior he often portrayed when strutting around the precinct.
She sighed and turned back to the glowing laptop screen she’d been staring at for the last three hours. They’d set up 24/7 video cameras to record any and all activity during the day and, having taken that afternoon off from active duty surveillance to run down some leads on Sal’s illicit activity, now they were back at it again, reviewing the video from what had happened while they were gone.
So far, as far as Mel could see, that meant nothing; nada. The video cameras had been trained on the living room window and the bedroom windows facing the hotel room Mel and Jake had rented for the week.
Now, as she watched the video monitor in front of her, Sal Amato walked into the living room behind a tall, leggy blond. Mel rolled her eyes. Sal liked his hookers tall and blond, and this was his third of the week; and it was only Tuesday!!
But this time, unlike on the previous two occasions, Sal didn’t close the bedroom shades. Instead, he swung them wide open, letting in the afternoon light as he plopped himself on the edge of the bed while the blonde hooker took off her rhinestone jacket and did a slow, grinding strip tease at the end of the bed.
Mel toggled the zoom feature on the video playback, reduced the size of the living room window footage and let the bedroom scene fill the 19-inch laptop screen at her command. The monitor filled with glorious color as the blonde dropped her top, revealing sumptuously young, 19-year-old breasts and perky pink nipples. In front of her, Sal was already loosening his belt as the blond knelt on the floor to service him.
Mel shifted in her seat at the sight of unexpected and sudden sex, right in front of her! With the sophisticated video equipment and high-resolution laptop monitor, courtesy of the precinct, she might as well have been in the same room as the blonde began stroking the mobster’s shaft. Mel fiddled with the volume until she could actually hear the sucking noises and Sal’s satisfied groans as the hooker bent to her trade.
Mel had never been much of a voyeur and, in fact, was in the middle of a long, six-month dry patch ever since her last boyfriend had dumped her for some young intern at the graphics design firm where he worked. But even when they’d been together, he was a strictly vanilla lover. Not that she minded, exactly. What he couldn’t provide via two minutes of the standard missionary position she more than made up for with the vibrator she kept in the nightstand.
While Mel watched in a kind of self-imposed trance, the hooker slid out of her black thong panties. She had long, endless legs and a firm, teenage ass that made Mel envious.
In a blur of back hair and boxer shorts, Sal disrobed abruptly and reached into a drawer in the nightstand to reveal a squat black plug and a tube of lube, which he promptly used to turn the plug’s tip into a glistening arrow which he then forcefully rammed into the hooker’s ass.
Mel winced but couldn’t look away as the young girl splayed out her legs while Sal used his tongue to turn her into a trembling tangle of quivering limbs.
“Guy doesn’t waste much time, does he?” Jake asked from behind her, shocking Mel into clutching her throat and gasping. She slapped at his thigh and said, “Warn a girl, Jake, will ya?”
He looked down at her and smirked. “What, I should let you have all the fun?” Bathed in the blue laptop light, his cheekbones were even more prominent, as were the mysterious hazel of his winking eyes.
She smirked as he slid into the folding chair next to her, gently shifting the laptop so they could both get a gander. To do so, he crept unreasonably close so that she could smell his deodorant and feel the heat wafting off his body in waves. She forced herself to focus on the, ahem, evidence at hand. By now the blonde was on the bed, on all fours, with Sal thrusting behind her violently as he grabbed her blond ponytail and yanked it back.
“Dude likes it rough,” Jake muttered, almost to himself. Mel wasn’t sure if he was merely commenting on the mobster, or complimenting him.
Mel nodded toward the blond, who squealed appreciatively and came on cue. “She does, too, apparently.”
There was an awkward pause as spanking sounds, then laughter, filled the audio track of the lurid scene. It felt awkward, watching this with Jake right next to her. She wondered if he felt the same.
His eyes were glued to the scene, but she couldn’t tell if he was enjoying it or just doing his job. He had a stellar record with the Holcomb County PD, and she’d been thrilled to learn they’d be working together at last. Now she was sitting here, in a tiny hotel room on the wrong side of town, watching some thick-dicked mobster plow his barely legal hooker on video! With her sergeant sitting right
next to her.
She stood, abruptly, nearly knocking over her metal picnic chair. Jake looked personally offended. “Hey, what gives?”
She shook her head, backing away from the laptop as if it was nuclear. “This is a little too… intense… for me, Jake. Besides, now that you’re up, I can finally take that shower you promised me.”
He chuckled, smirking, as she backed out of the room. He arched one eyebrow and joked, “Better make it a cold one!”
“Very funny,” she said, just before slamming the bathroom door. “Just make sure to call me in case anything… interesting… happens.”
Mel leaned on the sink, looking at herself in the water stained mirror. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Here she’d been so eager to prove her mettle to Jake, a superior officer, her superior officer, and suddenly she was fleeing the room the minute some second-rate mobster whips out a butt plug and sticks it to some rent-by-the-hour hooker!
Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories (Over 400 Pages of Hot Sex) Page 16
