I winked. “Like I said, six times a week should do it, but seven is even better.”
Mile High Dare
If given a dare to join the Mile High Club, would you take it?
After a particularly stressful business meeting in London, it was finally time to head home to New York for much needed rest, relaxation, and tons of jerking off. They’d roomed me with a babe who hadn’t a clue about privacy or etiquette. She peeled off her skimpy under-things and just left them wherever they landed. I can’t remember details about her wardrobe, but her husband must have married her for her looks. How else could he stand her high-pitched whine all night long? Remembering her naked ass swishing and the sight of her freshly shaved pussy, made a passing looped luggage strap wrapped around a delicate wrist look enticing. I averted my gaze forward. But a prime view of the pilot’s joystick sent a twinge through my belly.
As passengers continued to board, I opened my book to where I’d left off. Despite her corny pseudonym, Palmer Clitsky’s latest erotic romance sent me into acute sexual alert. Every agonizing passage put my sex in a vice until the stunning conclusion when I landed on the brink of spontaneously climaxing.
I squirmed in my seat and reached for water. A swig of the cool liquid wet my parched throat, but didn’t quench my thirst. I had to look up or risk exploding in public. A real cutie with a bold, blonde EMO cut captured my attention. Her angular features, which reminded me of anime, were partially hidden by a shock of long, layered bangs. I got lost in appreciating the contrast between her rough demeanor and her smooth creamy vanilla complexion. As she got closer, her fresh-scrubbed, Ivory-girl look intrigued me further. But not as much as her low-cut, baggy cargo pants, which allowed a nice view of her tummy ring. Above it, an open button-down shirt hung loosely over a tight white tank top. When she moved, I could just make out her nips under the thin material. Oh yeah, I was in lust.
I exhaled slowly as she inched her way down the aisle with a stuffed backpack slung over her shoulder. As she got closer, the light caught a small hoop in her left eyebrow and lit up the cabin. She didn’t hide behind hideous face paint. She was refreshing, fair, boyish, and young. I sucked at my bottle of Evian until the plastic crinkled beneath my fingers. I was thirstier than I thought.
“That’s my seat.” She pointed toward the window with her chin.
“Oh, here, let me get out of your way.” I put my finger in my book and got up to allow her and her bag to pass. She smiled and a ripple of excitement shot straight to my groin. God, she had a great smile. And her eyes were bright blue. My favorite.
It had been a while since I locked lips with anyone this hot. And hers were inviting. I tried not to be too obvious in my scrutiny, but I couldn’t help noticing she had nice tits, too. She turned away and struggled to fit her backpack under the seat. I got a great view of her butt when she bent down.
“I bet if you removed something and lay it on the side without the extra compartments it’d fit underneath just fine.”
A thick textbook tumbled out seconds before she zipped the bag and jammed it into the cramped space. She was studying Astrophysics. Impressive.
I tried not to gawk as she slipped off her over shirt. Another inch closer to my face and she’d have knocked me out with her arm. Thoughts of helping her undress were front row and center, but I extinguished it for fear of revealing my arousal. After all, I didn’t even know her name. Her full breasts swelled the skimpy tank top. The way her armband tattoo rippled as her biceps stretched and flexed with each movement captivated anyone privileged enough to bear witness. I watched the design dance.
With the bag properly stowed, she patted her palms. “It worked. Thanks.” She offered her hand. “I’m Sam, Samantha.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Julie.” We held hands a bit longer than necessary. My eyes zeroed in on her arm again. On closer inspection, the design wasn’t a run of the mill barbed wire job, but rather a cross between a naughty and nice thorn type. “I like your artwork.”
Sam glanced down and checked it out as if she hadn’t seen it in a while. She turned a lovely shade of pink from my obvious appreciation. I turned to mush when her eyelashes fluttered as she raised her eyes to meet mine. “I got it last year over Spring Break in P-town,” she said, and then corrected, “Provincetown.”
If I wasn’t sure before, I was positive now that what I had in such close proximity was a beautiful baby dyke. And she was a sweet dream come true. “I’ve been to P-town many times. I love it there.”
“Me too.”
“What year are you in?”
“Post-grad at Oxford.” She was older than I thought. “And you?”
I often passed for twenty years younger, having been blessed with good genes. My long brown hair had very few gray strands and so far, I was spared the middle-age bulge and sagging flesh. For forty-three, I was in good shape.
I chuckled. “I finished college years…a while ago.”
The stewardess came around with headphones, and Sam grabbed a pair and promptly plugged it in the armrest receptacle. When I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I resumed reading.
It didn’t take long before I was engrossed in the story, faintly registering that my cute baby dyke was reading over my shoulder. I could feel her breath on my neck. It got so bad that I started feeling guilty about turning the pages too soon. I was about to turn another when I heard her sigh. Apparently, she hadn’t finished the preceding page. When I looked up, she turned crimson and removed the headphones.
“What are you reading?”
“Careful Whisper.” I showed her the cover.
“Hot.”
“It is, believe me. Have you read any Palmer Clitsky?” Her eyebrow shot up at the mention of the author’s name. I suppressed a smile.
“Me? No. I mean, I don’t have the time, but that looks good.” She snatched it from my hands and started flipping through the pages reading snippets as she went. She looked up suddenly and blurted, “I’ll buy it from you.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m serious.”
“I don’t know. I have all of Clitsky’s books. It’s a keeper.”
“Come on,” she pleaded. “Be a pal.”
I wanted to be more than a pal at that moment, noticing the suggestive way she was sitting with her legs open. Actions speak louder than words. She melted me with that earnest look of hers, and the mischievous smile to match left me breathless. I returned her gaze with a half amused, slightly flirtatious grin. If the body language between us was any louder, we would have been arrested for disturbing the peace.
“All right. How much have you got?”
She retrieved her backpack and started rummaging through it. She fumbled in the many pockets of her bag and dumped most of the contents onto my lap. Proudly, she presented me with a five-dollar bill, four singles, and assorted change.
I considered the money she put in my hand. “That’s only ten bucks. The book is worth at least twice that.” I opened the title page to show it was a signed copy.
“What else can I do? I really want this book.” She stared with those baby blues. The plane dipped and my stomach flip-flopped.
“How about a dare?”
“Oooooh, a dare. You’re on!” Her eyes twinkled. She was certainly playful. I had to give her that. My skin tingled when she moved closer. I whispered the plan in her ear. She clapped and sat back in her seat, giving me a toothy grin. I loved the way her two front teeth overlapped slightly while the rest were perfectly straight and especially white.
I waited until the flight attendant was busy with the beverage cart before I headed to the lavatory. It didn’t take long until I heard three soft taps as I had instructed. I opened the door and grabbed her arm like a desperado. Lucky I didn’t dislocate her shoulder. When I pulled her into the cramped cubicle, her body crashed into mine. It hardly mattered that we barely fit between the sink and toilet. I sat on the toilet seat and pulled her onto my lap. We wa
sted no time introducing our lips and tongues to each other. Her vivacity was contagious.
She showered me with kisses, which I happily returned. With payment like this, I would gladly give her my entire book collection.
I gently kissed her eyebrow ring, worked my way down to her nose, and again feasted greedily on her lips. With her hands firmly tangled in my hair, she pulled me nearer. I reached underneath her tank top, unclasped her bra and lifted it releasing twin mounds of creamy white flesh. Delicious pink nipples standing at attention. Sam’s breasts were perky despite their weight. My clit twitched as I took in a mouthful and tasted each nipple in turn, feeling our excitement escalate. She moaned softly. I abandoned her breasts to kiss the length of her neck – it begged to be licked, and I complied. Tasting her, caressing her, teasing her.
“Please…” She pulled my hand back to her forgotten nipple. I squeezed it between my fingers, enjoying the pebbled hardness, while attending softly to the nape of her neck right under her ear. She giggled when I nipped on her star-studded earlobe and tickled her ear with my tongue. I got high just hearing her. I worked harder to produce the sound again.
She paid me back, tasting and teasing my flesh until her ministrations sent goose bumps down the length of my body. The plane hit some turbulence and we bumped heads. We laughed briefly, but ignored the captain’s seatbelt sign.
“I…love…when…” She cried as I feasted on her tits. I continued for a while longer. “So good,” she whispered, increasing my arousal with her breath. Her fervent kisses ignited a passion in me I didn’t realize I possessed. I was wet right through my pants. She had to feel it as she groped my crotch and then made her way over the waistband. In slow motion and excruciating seconds later, she was finally inside my panties. I barely had time to unzip the fly as we fumbled in the cramped space, trying to stand up without bumping into a wall or each other. Sam accidentally sat on the sink and hit the water faucet. I was like a faucet too, and the only relief would be her touch. She must have read my mind because her fingers made their way into my deepest recesses. With each inserted finger, I dripped with desire and longing. I had to hold on to the counter top as she rhythmically plunged three fingers in and out of me until I was soaked, my juices easing her way.
“Oh, God…so…good. Higher…my clit…please,” I begged.
I needed her to stroke my outer limits, but I wanted her inside me too. Call me greedy. I wanted all of her at once. I stood up and dropped my pants, clumsily kicking them off. Sam managed to kneel and spread my legs as far as they fit. I soon forgot about my kneecaps crashing into the wall when she caught my clit in her teeth and nipped at my sopping wet folds. A pungent fragrance filled the space. I loved my scent almost as much as the cause and parted my lips further apart for greater access.
I lost track of which moan and grunt of pleasure belonged to me and which escaped from deep in Sam’s throat. She had an experienced tongue and those luscious lips totally consumed my entire essence. My brain screamed for release, only I wasn’t sure she heard me because I was lost in the rapture, dizzy, headed toward climax at 32,000 feet – I could have been on the moon, for all I knew at that moment. Every ounce of blood drained from my head, leaving me dizzy with desire, until my clit couldn’t withstand the pressure and ached for the pleasure. I shuddered in time with the engine. The last time I came that quick and hard was when I was twenty. God, it felt great to be back!
I reached for her crotch and was pleasantly surprised at what I found. How did I miss it? I wasted no time releasing her thick dick from the confines of her boxers and gave it a tug. I had a butch baby dyke, and I was becoming more delirious by the second. She was no innocent young thing either. I kissed her deeply, tasting my juices on her lips.
“How? When?” I asked between nibbles, biting her lower lip gently.
“The dick?”
“Yeah.” I played with it just right because I could tell by the way she was moaning that it rubbed up against her clit exactly the way I planned.
“I couldn’t pack it in my suitcase with security and all,” she managed and squeezed her eyes shut while I continued to work her dick.
“Oooo, so good. Don’t stop. Don’t...” She leaned up against the door for support. Her knees buckled. I grabbed her hips for balance and slid the smooth phallus into my mouth, sucking it for all I was worth. She tilted her hips up higher. I seized the perfect opportunity to enter her. She stifled a scream. I sucked and fucked her at the same time until I was sure that she was just about there. I pulled my fingers out, purposely brushing her clit, and let go of her cock, savoring the taste and luxuriating in the silkiness that filled my mouth and did wonderful things to my soul. She protested until I stood up and guided her big cock deep inside me.
“Yeah, just like that,” I murmured as she slowly and deliberately eased the dick into me, thrusting slowly at first, getting quicker, deeper, and harder. I gasped when she was all the way in. I felt vibrant and more alive with each thrust of her pelvis.
“Harder,” I begged. I had my hands wrapped around her head intensifying the pressure to equal how I wanted her to fuck me, and she got my signal. Our swollen breasts bounced and collided turning tender flesh into hardened points. We didn’t silence our cries as passion overtook us like a sudden loss of cabin pressure. She bucked as the orgasm rocked her and I came shortly after. We were slick with sweat and the sweet, musky, and delicious scent of sex obliterating all sense of time and place. We clung to each other as I basked in the glory of her talents.
“Where did you learn to do that?” I asked when I finally caught my breath.
“Reading,” she replied.
“In that case you can have the book for free.”
Tina In Toyland
Can you imagine being a 48-year-old, married mother of two who has never owned a vibrator? What was she waiting for? Join Tina after her first trip to toyland and take a ride to orgasmic heaven.
On one unseasonably warm December day, wearing short-sleeved shirts, my best friend and I strolled down Broadway to Mercer Street, heading for Babeland, the infamous Manhattan toyshop. Kat writes popular lesbian romances and her erotic short stories sizzled between the sheets of more than a dozen anthologies. I’m her number one fan, and she’s my number one sex-tip confidant.
Kat knew me as well as my husband did and had hounded me for years to buy a vibrator. I reminded her that I didn’t need gadgets and gizmos to orgasm. However, the idea of something kinky wasn’t altogether unappealing. Kat somehow managed to get me to consent to a naughty shopping spree.
We were two women on a mission. Just thinking about buying a dildo made the day feel much hotter than sixty-four degrees. I may have been a sexually adventurous and hormonally charged forty-eight year old mom, who also loved sex and read erotica in her spare time, but still, I hadn’t played with toys, and I didn’t own any. Kat was about to show me what I’d been missing.
I absolutely adored Kat and yes, I found her attractive, but she didn’t come out until well after we’d graduated and were no longer roomies. Things might have been different had I known that she had a crush on me the last two years of college, but I was clueless. Anyway, aside from our personal differences, physically Kat had about fifty pounds of brawn over me. She was a head taller, weight lifted before it was in vogue, and played football with the guys on the college green. She was fearless and protective; we complemented each other and filled in the gaps like a synergistic bonding of cosmic proportions. I loved her like the sister I never had.
I was, by her description, a petite little thing. In those days, I barely tipped the scale at ninety-six pounds. She would grab me and wrestle me down to the floor before I could get out a giggle. The last time we’d wrestled, we had just come in from our five mile run on the hilly terrain on the outskirts of town. Kat gave me a run for my money, and the motivation to best her was great incentive for my daily workouts. I changed out of my sweats, peeling off one drenched layer at a time.
�
�Tina, you think you’ll be dressed sometime this century?” Kat’s biceps, accentuated by a lack of extraneous body fat, bulged when she crossed them over her practically flat chest. She had great pecs, eight-pack abs, muscular thighs, and a cute tight butt. She kept herself completely hairless except for her shoulder-length, wavy brown tresses that she usually wore stuffed under a baseball cap. After college, she cut her hair short, and these days, she wears it spiked with red highlights.
“Hold your horses.” I removed my soaked bra and panties as she leaned on the doorframe. I had pantyhose, socks, and odds and ends strewn all over the floor. “Shit, I haven’t done laundry since before the big anatomy and phys test.”
Kat reached into her drawer and threw me a brand new pair of white cotton briefs that were still in the wrapper. She had quite a stash of underwear in preparation for any situation. Jockeys® were a far cry from my usual teensy, weensy bikinis in assorted pastel and floral designs, but it beat the heck out of soiled ones. Kat glanced at my chest. She didn’t bother finding me a bra because it would have fit like a binder. Before I became a mom, I had a 21-inch waist, 33-inch hips, and shapely legs that went right down to my feet, but I wore a 34 C and my boobs were more than a handful. I looked disdainfully at the sweaty bra on the floor.
“Too bad I can’t wear your bras.” I slipped into the briefs. They smelled new and were nice and cool against my flushed bottom. I cupped my bosoms. “These babies are going to be bouncing all over the place.”
“We’re just going to the Bear for a snack. Put on a big hoodie and nobody will even notice.” Seeing her gaze fixated on my body, I glanced down, but was barely able to make out my lower half with my boobs in the way.
“What? Is something wrong? Do you want your panties back?”
She looked away, but not before I caught her blush. “I’m just surprised they fit, is all.”
Attractions of the Heart Page 13
