Category: Stories

Stories

An Excerpt from Separated, With Benefits

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Separated, With Benefits comes out on July 22. Check out this excerpt. If you like it, you can pre-order it now over on Amazon. This is early on in the book. For context, Michael is a neighbor and platonic friend of Ethan and Nicole. Enjoy!

An Excerpt from Separated, With Benefits

Our front door was the same, buttery yellow that it had always been. The plants beneath the awning were also the same. The walk could have used some edging, but beyond that, it was like I’d never left. But I had, and things were different.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked. Then continued to hold that breath. What if a guy really did answer the door? Her boyfriend. Her live-in boyfriend. The idea of it twisted in my gut. I reached out, bracing my hand on the door frame when the door finally opened.

“Oh, hi there,” Nicole said, surprised to come face to face so close.

I realized how this must look, how I was hanging onto the door like some brash suitor. The only other thing that was needed was a sparkle in my smile.

“Um, hi.” I snatched my hand away from the door frame and stepped back. I lifted the growler. “Michael sent me over with this.”

“What a thoughtful man,” she said, taking it from me. “Come on in.”

If this was weird for Nicole, she didn’t show it. If anything, she was acting like this was perfectly normal. I needed to copy that.

Judging by her damp hair, she’d showered since she’d run by. Showered and changed, although she’d put on another pair of black leggings that conformed to her legs and butt just as nicely. She wore a plain, pale pink t-shirt and a short, black cardigan. Casual, in other words. Deliberately so? Or was this how Nicole normally hung around the house when she was alone? I seemed to recall rattier jeans and sweatshirts.

I followed her in before she caught me staring at her ass.

The house looked different than the one I remembered. All the furniture was new, for one. Gone were our IKEA furnishings, replaced by a more adult sectional, more polished coffee and side tables, artwork that I didn’t recognize but immediately felt like Nicole.

“So this is the color that Michael finds so objectionable,” Nicole said.

I looked away from the new furniture and into the kitchen. Gone was the tired beige it had been when we’d bought it. Nicole had painted it a rich, orange-red, textured by a sponge to make it look like stucco. It reminded me of the Italian cafes that Nicole had always wanted to visit.

“Well?” she said.

“I don’t understand why he hates it,” I said.

Nicole retrieved a couple pint glasses and set them on the counter. “So does that mean you don’t hate it?”

“I love it. It’s very…it fits you.”

“So I’m like a…how did he put it? A sun that vomited on the wall? Am I the sun? Or the vomit?” She popped the hinge-top of the growler and filled the pint glasses.

“Definitely the sun. You smell too good to be the vomit.” It was the previous drinks talking, but now that I’d said it, I realized that she really did smell good. She wasn’t wearing perfume like the not-a-date, but she must have switched shampoos to something fruity.

“Well, cheers to not being vomit. This stuff any good?”

I touched my glass to hers. “It’s certainly strong.”

Nicole laughed, then took a sip. “Not bad. Not bad at all. But yes, I can taste how strong that is. How many did you have?”

“I can’t remember.” I laughed.

“That many, huh? Did you eat dinner?”

I had to think for a moment before answering. Had I downed something at the hotel? “Nope.”

“Oh, Ethan, how irresponsible. Is this how you live your life now?” She smiled, making the scolding seem like flirting. “I’ve got some leftovers. I’ll heat them up. You go easy on that glass.”

She turned to the fridge, opening it and crouching down to grab some Tupperware from the lower shelf.

“You don’t have…to.” I stuttered when her black leggings pulled tight and low on her ass, and the black band of her thong peeked out.

I moved sideways, putting the counter between me and her and the thong. It was the only way I would be able to stop looking. In all the years that we’d been together, Nicole had only worn a thong a handful of times, and always with dresses that required them. Never had she ever worn them around the house like this. Never so casually.

Or maybe that was for me?

“Here we go. Lamb kabobs okay?” She popped up and set the plastic container between us.

“Perfect,” I said. “But seriously, you don’t have to.”

“I’m hungry too, and I need to get these out of here.” She turned and popped them into the microwave. “So you didn’t let me know you were coming into town.”

I stared at her ass, thinking about her racy underwear when she turned back to me. This time, she caught me. She smiled but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Then, again because I was a little tipsy, I added, “I wasn’t sure you’d want to…you know. After last time…”

“Last time?” I couldn’t tell if she was playing coy with me on purpose, or was actually confused.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be busy or something,” I said lamely.

“Only way to find out would be to ask,” she said. The microwave beeped behind her. She turned away from me again. “But you’re acting strangely. Maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

“No, not that,” I blurted. “Actually, I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“Really? Why’s that?” She didn’t bother with a plate. She just grabbed a couple forks and placed the steaming plastic container before us.

“I don’t know.” Because you had a date after, I didn’t say. “It’s kind of weird, after…you know. The separation.”

“A little,” Nicole conceded. “Wait, it must be really weird being here, then. For you, I mean.”

“Not for you?” I asked.

“I guess some. But it’s not a bad weird.” She forked a chunk of lamb and bit into it as she thought about it. “It helps that you’re kind of drunk. Makes me feel like I’ve got the upper hand. You always were a fun drunk.”

I said, “Should I be worried about being taken advantage of?” The question registered with a twitch between my legs.

When she smiled at me and didn’t say anything other than to take a long sip of her own beer, that twitch turned into something real and rising.

“I like the new furniture,” I said, changing the subject.

Nicole brightened. “Thanks. After we decided to separate, I decided that I needed a fresh start, you know?”

The way she mentioned the separation like she was referring to last week’s snowstorm should have been off-putting. Instead, it helped me relax. It was a thing. It had happened, and we were adults who could move past it.

Also, though, deep down, her casualness hurt. I kept that emotion bottled up. It was embarrassing.

“Well, you’ve got good taste. I should have let you decorate my place in DC.”

“Oh, God, let me guess, black leather sofa?” I winced, and Nicole laughed. “You did not!”

“Afraid I did,” I said.

“Was Michael serious about the BMW?”

“Does that sound like me?” I said defensively.

“Fair, fair.” She went over to the stereo system—at least that was from my time—and turned on some music.

“The Cranberries?” I asked.

Nicole shrugged. “Since we got together last, I’ve been going through a phase. Everything that’s old is new again.”

I remembered how much Nicole loved the Cranberries when we’d first started dating. “Did you pull out the Ani Difranco albums?”

“That was so last week, Ethan.”

We laughed together. It felt good. It felt…like home. Or at least the memory of home.

“So I also replaced most of the furniture upstairs,” she said.

“My grandfather’s desk chair?”

“That’s still there, goof. So is your desk.” She finished up her pint. I looked at mine, barely a quarter of the way down. She must have been chugging hers.

That’s when I saw the nervousness in the way she couldn’t quite hold my eyes. Interesting.

“Got a new bed, though. A queen.”

My heart kicked up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Want to see it?”

This wasn’t what I was expecting, and yet somehow exactly what I dreamed. “Yeah, I do.”

Nicole seemed to let go of something she’d been holding on to—nerves, anxiety, fear of rejection. She came around the counter, trailing her fingers along its edge. She’d painted her nails the same pink as her t-shirt, and she wore a number of rings that I didn’t notice, including one on her thumb. But her wedding rings were gone. It shouldn’t have felt like the gut punch that it was. After all, it had been a long time since I’d worn mine. Still, it did.

“You look good, Ethan,” Nicole said. I tore my eyes away from her hand as she reached out to me. She touched my chest, spreading her fingers up to my shoulders. “You’re keeping in shape.”

“So are you. Running even in the winter.”

Nicole shrugged. “It’s a routine. Keeps me thinking about…other things. You know?”

I didn’t, but also couldn’t find the courage to ask. My mind was too busy filling it in with all kinds of crazy things—she’d turned into a nymphomaniac and spent her free time prowling for men; she’d gotten into online sex chat rooms; the square-jawed M.D. wormed himself in there.

“Ethan?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you to read anything into what’s about to happen, okay?” She really did look nervous. It made me see her the way I had when we first crossed this line. It was thrilling to be able to do that again.

“And what do you think I’d be reading?”

Nicole sighed. Like, this is a mistake sighed. Like, we shouldn’t do this sighed. But what she said was, “I know how things are between us. How they stand. I’m not trying to lure you back. I know the past is past. But right now…” She blew out some air, looked away for a split second, then back. “Right now, I need you.”

I didn’t let her twist in the breeze. Not even for a second. Before she’d even finished saying you, my lips were on hers.

Like so many other things in this surreal return to my past life, our kiss was both familiar and powerfully new. Her lips felt the same, and the way she accepted the kiss was as I remembered. I pressed with my tongue, parting her lips; she accepted and then, after a playful moment, pressed back.

Only this time, she pressed a little harder than I was expecting. Or maybe I just remembered wrong. Maybe she’d always been like this, and I’d just forgotten. Whatever it was, it felt different, and because of that, the new overwhelmed everything else.

When I pulled at her cardigan, she stopped me. “Upstairs. It’ll be more comfortable.”

I nodded. Upstairs. Right. The bedroom. My heart skipped. The bedroom!

Nicole laughed, taking my hand and pulling me toward the stairs. How many times had we made this trip together in the past? How many times had things started heating up in the kitchen before we’d quickly taken the stairs? Not enough. No where close to enough.

And it had never felt so charged as now. My teeth practically chattered as I followed her up the stairs, watching her ass, tracing the toned lines of her runner’s legs. This didn’t feel domestic. This didn’t feel like just another Saturday night.

Nicole shed her cardigan before we entered the bedroom. It smelled like the shower, fresh and clean. Nicole moved to the new dresser she’d purchased, her footsteps light across the plush, new area rug. I looked around. Everything was different here, from the bed to the paint on the walls to the photos.

“What do you think?” she asked, following my eyes to the black and whites over the headboard of the bed.

“Yours?” The images were close-ups of things I recognized once I was looking—the sign over the general store downtown, the lattice work along the old courthouse, the stone fountain in the park.

“Yeah, just playing around.” She turned on some music, sensual Spanish guitars layered over a soft yet driving beat. “Most were duds, but I liked those.”

“I love them.”

“Thanks.”

I heard the whisk of clothing. My heart raced even faster. Shyly, I looked.

Nicole had removed her shirt and had just pushed her thumbs beneath her black leggings. She’d left her bra on, black and basic, but by no means not sexy. As she bent forward to guide the leggings down her thighs, her arms pushed her breasts together, accentuating her already deep cleavage. I couldn’t not look. Judging from the way Nicole smiled, she knew what she was doing—and that made the whole thing even more sexy.

I wouldn’t say that Nicole was unaware of the effect that she had on men—she was beautiful and knew it—but she’d never harnessed the full power of her sex appeal. Even with me. Even at our most intimate. In our past, I usually initiated the sex, and I could count the number of times that she’d actively seduced me on one hand.

She was actively seducing me now.

Not that she could keep it up for long. She kept a straight face until she had her leggings around her ankles, then broke into a smile. “You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen me before.”

“Well, it’s been a while…”

Nicole straightened up, and while her cleavage wasn’t so obvious, she still looked amazing. She’d been blessed with good genes—her hips were wide enough and her tits were full enough to give her an elongated S-shape without having to put much work into it. Apparently she was now putting work into it, and it showed.

She stepped out of her leggings and sauntered over to me. She didn’t even bother exaggerating the sway in her hips. It was there, and I followed it.

“Your turn,” she whispered, fingering the bottom of my shirt. “It’s been awhile for me, too.”

Together, we pulled off my shirt. Judging by Nicole’s sharp intake of breath, she approved. Like her, I’d filled my spare time with trips to the gym. I’d joined a morning bootcamp group. I was in better shape now than I’d ever been in my life, and when Nicole ran her hand through the sparse crop of dark hair on my chest, she traced the swell and rise of my pectoral muscles.

“Well, I think I’ve found at least one good thing about this separation,” she said. Her lips found mine again. It was just as deep and even more urgent. The feel of her soft bra and warm skin against my bare chest helped, but I wanted more.

I filled my hands with her ass cheeks, left bare by the thin thong. When I squeezed, she kissed me harder.

“This really happening?” I said between kisses.

“Only if you want it to.”

“I do.”

Nicole smiled. “Good. Me too.”

Then she did another thing that surprised me. When she went back to kiss me, it was along my jaw and down my neck, down my chest, down along the underside of my pecs. She sank to her knees, trailing kisses the whole way, as her hands went to work on my belt.

We weren’t strangers to oral sex, and when we’d first started dating, what Nicole didn’t have in experience she made up in enthusiasm. She’d always maintained that she loved making me happy, and a blowjob clearly made me happy. But since we got married and things settled, the blowjobs were few and far between, and when it did happen, it was just a means to get me up enough for the final act.

When Nicole freed me from my pants and wrapped her hand around my full cock, there was no getting ready needed. I was as hard as I’d been in a long time. Hard enough that I needed to be careful about finishing too quickly.

Nicole looking up at me from her knees as she tilted her head and ran her tongue along my shaft certainly didn’t help. Even back in our dating days, I don’t think it was like this. I don’t remember the eye contact—or if it was there, her blue irises hadn’t been filled with the same…need. This may have been about my pleasure, but that wasn’t the only thing. I saw it in the shortness of her breath and her slightly unfocused pupils. She was excited.

And then, when she’d slathered my cock with her tongue, she readjusted and enveloped me whole. I think I yipped. I definitely sniffed hard and fought back the intense temptation to just let go. Instead, I tore my eyes away from her and looked at the ceiling as she began to bob along my length.

It was the absence that made this feel so good, I told myself. It was time making me forget how good it had been. It was a rekindling of an old flame. She hadn’t learned anything new since we’d broken up. She certainly hadn’t practiced on another man—

“Oh, God…” I grunted. Nicole had taken me deeper than ever. I felt myself pass into her throat, however briefly, and it nearly undid me. I clenched my jaw, and somehow, didn’t come. Somehow, despite the fact that she’d never done that before. She’d never even tried.

She did it again, a brief, tight caress along my head with her throat. I groaned again and looked back down at her. She was still looking up at me, her eyes playful. You like that? they seemed to ask.

Where did you learn that? I wanted to ask. I couldn’t. Instead, I held on and tried to stave off the orgasm as Nicole did everything she could to coax it from me.

“Nicole, you need to… lay off…”

She pulled back, but continued to pump me with her hand. “I don’t mind,” she said.

I shook my head. I didn’t, either, but I also didn’t want this night to end so quickly. I reached down and pulled her up to her feet. We kissed, her lips and tongue moist and hot with what she’d been doing. I reached behind her and twisted open the clasp of her bra with one hand.

“Still got the touch,” she said. She stepped back and shimmied her shoulders, freeing the bra from her body.

I loved Nicole’s breasts. They were definitely on the larger side, and best of all, they were completely natural. They hung round and ripe, slightly sloped outward and capped with tiny, perfectly circular nipples.

I dipped low and took one into my mouth, unable to help myself. She sighed, wrapping a hand around around my head to pull me closer. “Definitely still have the touch,” she sighed.

Pre-order now on Amazon

Stories

Forbidden Halloween

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The following is a excerpt from Nothing Forbidden, due to hit online bookstores November 20. Don’t want to miss it? Preorder it on Amazon right now.

Nothing Forbidden is a sequel to Something Forbidden, which follows Katie and Max Callahan as they explore a new world of swinging and wife-sharing.

If you haven’t read Something Forbidden, this excerpt will be full of spoilers. You have been warned.

 

Forbidden Halloween

Excerpt from Nothing Forbidden, by Kenny Wright.

“I feel naked,” Katie whispered to Max. She tugged at the veil across her nose and mouth. It didn’t conceal anything, but she could pretend it did. Not so much for the rest of her harem girl costume.

Max looked her up and down, lingering on her overflowing cleavage. “You look amazing.”

She dug her elbow into his side. “It’s not fair that you get to wear all those robes and I’m basically wearing a bikini.”

“Hey, you and Nadia were the ones who decided I should be the sultan.” Max was dressed in the black and gold robes of an Arabian Prince, complete with a brocade fabric headpiece featuring a plume and a jeweled diadem.

“I’m now convinced that Halloween was invented by a man,” she said.

“A genius,” Max agreed with an infuriating nod. “And don’t tell me that you didn’t have fun last year.”

Katie grew hot at the thought. Last year, Max had arrived late to the bar, leaving her at the mercy of costumed, horny men. When he finally did arrive, he’d pretended to be one of those costumed, horny men, and they’d ended the night fucking in the parking.

In the back of both of their minds, they were probably thinking of how this year could top that. It was probably why Katie had agreed to wear this ridiculous costume. The turquoise spangled top was no bigger than a bra, hung with golden chains; the baggy genie pants were as transparent as her veil and featured open slits up either side; the tall, golden sandals with their spindly, golden heels highlighted her perfect feet and red painted toenails. She tugged again on the veil, feeling the eyes on her.

“Look, there’s John and Nadia,” Max said.

Their friends were on the opposite end of the room, laughing with one another as they sipped drinks from Jack-O-Lantern Solo cups. It was nice to see them happy together. It was even nicer to see familiar faces. This was a house party thrown by friends of Nadia’s; Max and Katie knew no one.

As they approached, Katie studied her old colleague, John Mitchell. To complete the theme, he was the sultan’s guard. He wore a brocaded vest that left his arms bare, along with a crimson fez on his head and Roman legionnaire style sandals. He looked sexy—and so very different than in the business suits that she was used to seeing him in. Her mind jumped right to sex and the one evening they’d shared after the Katherine had opened.

It happened every time she’d seen him—not that she’d seen him much. Since they no longer worked for the same accounting firm, and he was still in New York, they’d only gotten together once or twice socially since that fateful night.

“You made it!” Nadia said, spotting them approaching. She appeared buzzed already. “And damn, girl, you look hot.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this,” Katie said. “I can’t pull it off like you can.”

Nadia’s costume was a black and gold version of Katie’s, only where Katie in a harem girl outfit was definitely a costume, Nadia actually pulled the look off with her deep golden skin and shimmering black hair. She’d added a jeweled belly piercing that dangled in the center of her flat stomach and matched her earrings. A golden bangle wrapped around her left bicep.

“Please, no one’s looking for authenticity,” Nadia said. “They just want to see skin. Right, John?”

Katie looked at John just in time to see him pull his eyes off her chest. That sent a flash of heat through her.

John’s smile was almost shy. He shrugged, and said, “It’s Halloween, after all. And she’s right, you look great.”

Katie’s mind flashed with an image of John stripped naked except for the fez as she bobbed her lips along his length. Her pussy quivered.

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said. “How are things, by the way?”

“Good. Still stuck in New York, but I’ve got a lead on something.”

“Oh?”

He’d been talking about getting out. He and Nadia had been splitting time between New York and DC, and while the two cities were only four hours apart and the couple had an open relationship, Katie knew her friend well enough to see how hard it was on him.

“Yeah. Too early to even talk about, though,” he said.

“Well, if there’s anything you need from me, let me know.”

Nadia snickered at that. She’d sidled up to Max, a hand on his arm. She whispered something into Max’s ear, which caused him to smile and nod his head. They looked so chummy. Katie felt jealousy spike through her—a reminder that no matter how secure she was with her marriage, she’d never be as comfortable as Nadia and John were with an open relationship.

Not that she couldn’t trust Max. Nadia had worked for Max for over five years and they’d always been close and flirty. It used to make Katie nervous. Now, Katie had no reason to be; Nadia loved John too much, and Katie knew Max loved her.

“Max and I will get drinks,” Nadia said. “You two get caught up.”

Katie started to object when John said, “Come on, I’m going to grab a smoke. Keep me company.”

Katie glanced back at her husband, who gave her a subtle nod. Go, have fun, he seemed to say. She knew him well enough now to know that he was getting turned on by the possibility of a repeat of their foursome.

Katie linked her arm into John’s. “Lead on.”

The went out onto the balcony, which was empty. It was warm for late October, but she was still wearing next to nothing. She half-considered going back in to get a drink to warm her.

“Smoke?” John asked.

That would do. “Please.”

She only ever smoked when she drank, and only then very rarely, but the idea of hot smoke in her lungs, along with the buzz that accompanied it, sounded tempting. She was too sober to be with this man alone.

John took out a cigarette, lighting and handing it to her. Sharing a cigarette felt bizarrely intimate, even though the last time they’d been alone was when they’d cabbed back to her house after the opening of the Katherine, torn each other’s clothes off, and fucked each other silly.

She was still amazed that she’d done that. She sucked down the smoke to calm her nerves.

“So how are you doing, Katie?” John asked. Katie looked up at him, not seeing her longtime friend and former coworker, but instead seeing him as the last man to fuck her besides Max. He added, “Things better with the new firm?”

Katie blinked, reminding herself who he was. A friend. Just a friend. She handed him the cigarette.

“Yeah, much. It’s smaller accounting group, so we all wear more hats, but I don’t mind the grunt work from time to time. Reminds me why I became an accountant.”

John nodded, smoking the cigarette as he watched her thoughtfully. Their eyes met. “You’re basically good at anything you put your mind to.”

“Same with you.” Her heart skipped in the pregnant moment.

He handed the smoke back to her.

They stared at one another, smiling, comfortable in the quiet moment.

Katie had always liked John. He was the opposite of an alpha male—the kind of guys who she found herself drawn to lately. He was on the total opposite end of the spectrum, the consummate good guy. The kind of guy her parents would have been happy for her to marry. She’d always liked him for that, but the more she got to know him, the deeper that appreciation became. He was strong when he needed to be, stubborn about things that he was passionate about, and more ambitious than his introverted personality suggested.

He was also fantastic in bed, she thought, her stomach once again doing flips.

She held the cigarette to him. His touch lingered on her fingers before he took it. She remembered the way he’d kissed her so many months ago. The way he’d held her hips as he made her scream. That didn’t help with her nerves.

She forced the conversation to more appropriate things. “You and Nadia still doing okay? With the whole long distance thing and all?”

“Yeah. Better than most couples in our situation, I bet.”

“Well, you’ve got a pretty unconventional way of dealing.” Katie’s face went bright. She was far too sober to have this conversation, yet here she was, spewing freely.

“Everyone’s different,” John said. “How about you two? How are you guys doing?”

“Great,” Katie said, maybe a touch too quickly. “All things considered, I mean.”

“You two had a bad experience. That’s not easy to get over—especially when it’s one of your first.”

Katie nodded, filling the silence with a final drag of the cigarette. She dumped the butt into an empty beer bottle. “Life’s crazy and unpredictable, isn’t it?” she said.

John looked at her, their eyes meeting in the dark. She no longer felt chilly. “Very,” he agreed.

The moment was interrupted by the sliding door opening and the ruckus of the party spilling out. “Should we come back?” Nadia said.

Katie stepped away from John—when had she gotten so close? Turning, she saw Nadia in the door and Max just behind her. She saw the conflict in her husband’s face—the same conflict that she felt when she noticed that his arm was across Nadia’s waist and his hand was on her bare midriff.

“We come with gifts,” said Nadia, holding out some drinks. “But if you two are having a moment—“

“No, of course not,” Katie said. “Drinks. Yes. Thanks.”

John lit up another cigarette. When he offered it to Katie, she shook her head. She was always self-conscious about smoking around Max. Drinking was a better buzz.

“What is this?” she asked, guzzling the punch too quickly.

“What do I look like, someone who works in a bar?” Nadia joked.

Max added, “It’ll get you buzzed. Does it matter?”

“You two run an upscale speakeasy that specializes in artisanal cocktails?” Katie said. “Very interesting.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Just drink, snob! You’re way too sober.”

Katie laughed and did as she was told

 

****

 

The night flowed along with the booze. Katie hadn’t been to a party like this in a long time. The apartment was packed to standing room only. People clustered everywhere, dressed in outlandish costumes that made Katie feel better about her own—it was like every male fantasy had come to life. Sexy maids and nurses were represented. A sexy teacher danced with a sexy school girl across the room. Cheerleaders and vampires and slutty versions of Disney princesses all mingled through the tightly packed throng.

Katie and Nadia were in line for more drinks, and had to yell to be heard. “So have you seen that guy again?”

“AJ?” Nadia asked. Katie nodded, as if she didn’t know exactly who AJ was. “Yeah. Couple times. I invited him to this, but he had other plans.”

Katie’s heart lurched at the bullet she hadn’t realized that she’d just dodged. Not that she had anything to hide, but meeting AJ at a party like this could have been awkward.

“How about you?” Nadia said. “You got any guys in your bullpen?”

Katie laughed at the analogy. “No one warming up, if that’s what you mean. But there’s a guy.”

It was a testament to how strong the drinks were that Katie said anything at all. Nadia’s interest was piqued.

“Oh? Anyone I know?”

“No. Just a guy I’m working with.”

“Client?”

“Yeah,” Katie said.

“Katherine Callahan is mixing business with pleasure?” Nadia faked a scandalous tone. “I’m shocked.”

“I know. And it’s nothing, just some fun.”

Nadia pinched Katie’s arm. “I’m just teasing. I think it’s great. And shows how much you’ve changed over the last year.”

“Well, a lot’s happened.”

Nadia pressed herself close to Katie, her fingers curling around the redhead’s waist. “A lot, yes.”

Katie inhaled a whiff of Nadia’s perfume, distinct, spicy, and undeniably feminine. She suddenly became hyper-aware of the other woman’s warm hands on her bare skin.

Nadia leaned in, her voice gentle, barely audible above the ruckus of the party. “It still makes you nervous, doesn’t it?” Nadia tilted her head, as though preparing for a kiss. Instead, she smiled and added, “But I know you like it.”

Katie’s chest felt tight. The two times she’d been with another woman had been in the context of group sex—in the heat of an already intense sex scene. This felt different. There was no way to deny her attraction.

Katie started to protest—more out of good girl instinct than genuine concern—when Nadia completed the action she’d started moments before. She dipped in and kissed Katie on the mouth.

Katie’s body stiffened. Nadia’s nose brushed along her own, her lips and mouth so unbelievably soft. Panic yielded to excitement—the same thrill of being a bad girl, of being unexpected.

The women melted into one another. The party around them faded away. Even the feminine body pressed against her lost definition to the sensual play of tongue against tongue.

Nadia broke the kiss. The world around them came crashing back. The guy behind them dressed as a jedi cheered a big, “Don’t stop now, honeys!”

Katie’s face burned.

Nadia said to Katie, “Want to get out of here? I bet John and Max are ready to leave, too.”

Katie did, but it scared her. She hadn’t realized how much baggage she’d been carrying around since the Chloe thing—since Hong Kong. She’d nearly lost her husband and her marriage because of that mess, and right or wrong, she tied Nadia and John to it.

“Come on, ladies, don’t tease a guy like that,” the Jedi said.

Nadia turned to him. “Would you shut the fuck up? Go beat off somewhere else.”

“Whoa. Princess Jasmine’s got a temper on her,” he said, hands up.

Katie couldn’t help but laugh. Nadia grabbed her hand and pulled her out of line. Katie just looked back at him and shrugged.

Nadia drew Katie into the bathroom, which surprisingly had no line. As she locked the door behind her, a thrill passed through Katie.

“For privacy,” Nadia explained.

Instead of going right in for another kiss, as Katie expected, Nadia leaned against the sink and looked Katie in the eyes. “I know you’re still marked by what happened. I respect that, and if you want to go back out there, find Max, and go back home with him alone, I’ll totally respect that, too.”

Katie felt Nadia’s authenticity. She wasn’t Chloe—she wasn’t trying to seduce Katie into doing something she didn’t want to do.

“But?” Katie asked, finally relaxing.

“But I want to fuck you so badly,” Nadia said, letting it all out in a breathy rush. “And so does John.”

Katie laughed. Giggled even. What else could she do? She wanted all of it. No sense in denying it anymore.

“Okay,” Katie said.

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s go find the guys.”

 

****

 

They all piled into a cab, heading out to Nadia and John’s place. Max sat up front, John, Nadia, and Katie crammed into the back with John in between the girls. Everyone was buzzing, and it was from more than booze and nicotine.

Katie turned to John, her earlier shyness snuffed out by the electricity of the night. “Hi,” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” was all he could manage. Katie kissed him hard, cupping his smooth cheeks as she cradled his head. It felt good to kiss a man—reassuring to her sense of heteronormativity.

Not to mention Max, there in the front seat, watching her do it. That lit a fire inside her.

Breaking the kiss, she glanced at Nadia, waiting eagerly opposite her. “Your turn,” she said, directing John’s head around to his wife’s. The two kissed deeply, tongues meeting in a wet duel.

Katie looked over at Max, who was twisted around in his seat, mesmerized. That cab driver was, too, although he only risked furtive glimpses in the rearview mirror as he drove them through the night.

An audience. She had an audience. Her breathing sped up. Her body hummed.

John pulled out of his kiss with Nadia. “Your turn?” he said. At first, Katie thought he was going to kiss her again, but he sat back in the seat, put his hands on the back of the back of Nadia and Katie’s heads, and nudged them together.

Neither needed much prompting, although again Katie had to fight back her reflex to pull away at the last second. As Nadia’s lips found hers, and Nadia’s tongue sliced into Katie’s mouth, the instinct to flee dissipated. She welcomed the kiss, reveling in it.

Still, subconsciously maybe, her free hand sought out John’s cock, finding him erect and ready through his loose pants.

Katie squeezed it, felt it throb. She couldn’t wait to feel that inside her again, she thought guiltily.

When Nadia and Katie separated, Katie realized that the cab was stopped. They’d arrived at Nadia’s condo complex. Max paid the driver. Said: “Thanks for the ride.”

“Buddy,” the driver said, “I think your ride’s about to start.”

“I think you’re totally right.”

 

****

 

Katie bobbed up and down John’s length, indulging in the strange cock like an exquisite meal. She loved the way it felt in her mouth, how different the contours were as she traced it with her tongue. Most of all, though, she loved the way he groaned above her as she blew him

As they blew him, she corrected. Nadia was on her knees beside Katie, her mouth focused on John’s balls as Katie sucked his shaft.

John groaned. “Oh, fuck yeah, that’s good.”

Nadia pulled up. “Switch,” she said.

They switched, Nadia going to work aggressively sucking John off as Katie dipped low and slathered his shaven balls with saliva. When she wrapped her lips around his scrotum and sucked, he moaned sharply.

Katie’s pussy quivered. She’d never done this before—never participated in a double blowjob. It felt so naughty. The fact that she was doing it to John, not Max, made it even spicier, albeit with a tinge of guilt.

Nadia pulled up, her fingers replacing her mouth to pump his cock. “So the sultan’s guard likes two girls on his dick?”

Katie sucked one last time on his balls before licked up the side of his shaft. When she got to Nadia’s fingers, she licked those, too, kissing her platinum wedding band.

Nadia went back to work, lapping her tongue along the opposite side of his shaft, both of them now focusing on his cock. They fell into a rhythm, their lips meeting around his cock, forming a soft, wet ring as they danced up and down his length, two tongues lashing instead of one.

Katie could tell that he was close. His breathing became sporadic. His abs clenched. He moaned harder, louder, squirming under the onslaught. Nadia swallowed him, only to pull away and let Katie take a bob. Back and forth they passed him, each woman taking a quick turn as they tickled his balls with their fingernails.

“Uh, yes!” John groaned, rocking back in the sofa. “That feels…that feels…so good!”

Katie’s body was on fire, too. Her nipples screamed against the bra-like top of her costume. Her pussy was drenched.

He came inside Nadia’s mouth first, although the women orchestrated a perfectly timed switch between ropey blasts of come. Katie swallowed like the sex slave she was pretending to be, passing his cock back to Nadia only to watch the other woman finish him off. Inches from Nadia, Katie was mesmerized. The woman looked so sexy doing that, her cheeks caved in, her eyes closed, long lashes fanning out like half-moons.

When John was through, Nadia released him, turned to Katie, and pulled the redhead into a sweltering kiss. They swapped come as much as spit as they made out. It felt so surreal to Katie. She wasn’t the kind of woman who did this sort of thing. What would her friends think of her now, as she French kissed another woman and shared another man’s come? What would the partners at her firm do? She thought about her clients—about Bradley—who could never see this side of her.

At some point, the act became less about putting on a display for John and more about enjoying the Sapphic touch. The kiss slowed, their bodies came together. Katie felt Nadia’s hand slide into the front of her panties as her own hands cupped Nadia’s ass.

“She’s so wet, my prince,” Nadia said, breaking free to look at Max, sitting on the couch.

Max grinned. He still wore the sultan’s plumed headdress and the golden robe, but was otherwise naked. The robe hung open, his cock clutched in his hand.

“Strip each other,” Max ordered.

Nadia stood, offering her hand to Katie. Katie took it, let herself be pulled to her feet, let her be turned toward her husband. It was easier to be passive when it was another woman behind her, touching her, working the clasp of her harem girl halter top.

“Just relax, Katie,” Nadia whispered. “Look at your husband. He’s loving this.”

Max was. He was staring with a hungry expression that made Katie shiver. The top came off and Nadia reached around, cupping Katie’s full swells. “Do they please you, master?” Nadia asked.

“They do,” he said.

“You did well, choosing this slave, master.”

Katie saw Max’s domineering facade drop for a second and shared a smile with him. The scenario was fun, but also silly, and they knew each other too well to start calling one another master and slave.

Nadia pinched Katie’s nipples, and the silent exchange between Max and Katie broke. No matter how silly this was, that was another woman behind her, stripping her, kissing her neck. There was no way to pretend otherwise. Yet as her nerves set in, she simply had to look at Max, see the hunger in his stare, and she was able to enjoy it.

Nadia’s hands left Katie’s tits, traveling down her flat stomach to her waist—to the hem of her gypsy pants. Nadia hooked her thumbs into Katie’s pants and panties, pushing them over her hips. Katie felt so exposed, even in front of her husband of nearly ten years.

“Keep the heels on,” Max said as Katie stepped out of her clothing.

She nodded, then turned to Nadia to return the favor. Nadia didn’t turn for her, however, forcing Katie to strip her face-to-face. Katie rolled her eyes at Nadia’s insufferable smile, then reached around her and worked open the other woman’s top.

Nadia had gorgeous breasts. At just 27 and without going through motherhood and breast feeding, her olive-hued tits still rested high and plump, capped with dusky nipples that screamed to be sucked on. Katie couldn’t resist, dipping in to take one between her lips.

Nadia clutched at Katie’s hair, moaning at the touch. “Oh, baby, that’s good,” she said.

Katie worked her hands down Nadia’s lean back, found the waistband of her pants and pushed them downward. Releasing her lip-lock on Nadia’s tits, she lowered herself into a crouch to peel down Nadia’s flowy pants, putting her right next to the other woman’s bare shaven pussy.

Suddenly, everything about this night snapped into vivid, raunchy reality.

“I want you to eat her.” Max’s voice cut through the roar of blood in her ears.

Katie’s stomach tightened, even as her pussy swelled. This felt so wrong, yet so exciting. For the quickest of moments, she remembered the suit-wearing accountant she was by day. Then, she took a deep, fortifying breath, wrapped her hands around Nadia’s ass, and ran her tongue across Nadia’s moist sex.

Nadia moaned, threading her fingers into Katie’s hair. Encouraged, Katie did it again, dragging the flat of her tongue across the entire length of Nadia’s slit. She was silky smooth. Katie remembered a brush of dark brown hair on her mound, but had to admit the bald look was exciting. Everything that happened was exciting.

Keeping Katie’s head against her crotch, Nadia lowered herself onto the sofa, getting more comfortable for both of them. She spread her legs wide, giving Katie complete access.

Katie took it, trying to recall the things that Nadia enjoyed the last time they were together. Katie pushed two fingers inside the other woman, slowly finger-fucking her as she flicked Nadia’s exposed clit. Nadia squirmed above her, moaning louder, and Katie felt pride warm her insides. She was doing something right.

Katie heard Max speak without fully comprehending the words. “You, there. Guard. I want you to fuck that slave.”

Katie continued to eat Nadia’s pussy, listening to the other woman’s vocal cues as she gauged how close she was to orgasm. Her tongue flashed this way and that across Nadia’s clit, a panicked zig-zag that Katie knew felt like magic when it was done to her.

And then she felt something hard and large press against her pussy from behind. She didn’t even have time to pull off Nadia’s cunt and look back before John’s cock entered her.

Katie went from zero to infinity in the time it took for him to bury his cock to the hilt inside her. When he pulled back, the ridge of his cockhead ratched up the pleasure a hundred fold. Nadia grabbed her head, shoving it back between her thighs before she could fully wrap her mind around what was happening.

“Don’t stop,” Nadia moaned. “Keep eating my pussy.”

Katie tried, but her attention was divided. She couldn’t fully focus on Nadia, not with the feeling of strange cock driving in and out of her. She gave up with her mouth as the waves of pleasure came crashing. She worked Nadia with her hands, finger-banging her with one hand as she dribbled her clit with the other.

It was enough for Nadia, who finally screamed out an orgasm of her own. She shoved Katie’s face back into her pussy, lifting her hips off the sofa, grinding her smooth cunt against Katie’s mouth.

And still, John fucked Katie. When Nadia went limp on the sofa, John pulled out long enough to flip Katie over, place her on her back next to Nadia, and enter her once again.

Katie met John’s eyes. The link was established. Looking into his deep, brown irises, something clicked inside her—something that scared her to death. She loved this man. The epiphany was as profound as it was so obvious.

She placed her hands on his hips. To push him back? To keep him there? He drove into her, filling her, forcing a cry of pleasure from her—and those hands curled around his ass, encouraging him to fuck her deeper.

Vaguely, she was aware of a shift on the couch beside her. Looking to her right, she saw Max there, his robe gone, guiding his cock between Nadia’s thighs.

Katie smiled at him, reaching out to hold his hand.

John drove into her again, forcing a moan—forcing her eyes closed and her mind to go haywire.

She loved John, but not in the same way that she loved Max. No one would ever replace him. And she would never, ever let anyone come between them again.

“I’m close,” John said.

Katie opened her eyes, looking up at him as he slowed his thrusts.

“Me, too,” she said, her voice harsh.

He nodded quickly, picking up speed again, rounding the final bend. He pulled a leg up over his shoulder, opening her wider, driving his large cock deeper than she was used to. He was good. He knew exactly what he was doing. She was so close. Three more strokes and she’d be there. Two more.

“I’m…” The rest was lost in a long moan. She wanted to feel his come, to feel him unleash himself inside her, but instead, he pulled out, ripped his condom off, and exploded across her stomach. The hot splatter of come on her sweaty skin felt almost as naughty.

“That’s it, slave girl. See all that come? You’re going to clean her up so I can have my turn,” Max said.

Max was still in control of the situation, and Katie was grateful for it. She was just a prop in their game, a harem girl who was there only to do as she was told. And she was accepting of that role.

Nadia slid into place between her legs. Max moved in right behind her, a condom rolled over his dick. Katie didn’t feel jealousy. Felt no uncertainty. Didn’t feel anything but relief and hedonistic pleasure as Nadia went down on her and Max fucked Nadia doggy style.

“I love the taste of come and pussy,” Nadia said. She pushed two fingers into Katie, drawing a gasp from the redhead. “And your pussy is so neat and beautiful. I love a tidy cunt.”

Nadia went back to work, harmonizing her tongue with her driving fingers. Katie closed her eyes, sparks of pleasure dancing around her in the blackness. Nadia ate her pussy like no one else ever had, sending her to the brink of release and holding her there, sputtering and gasping.

Katie looked over Nadia’s undulating body, at Max taking her like the royal prince he was pretending to be. He still wore that silly hat, although it had been tipped askew.

He mouthed an I love you, which she returned with a laugh.

This was the way it was supposed to go down. This was the kind of decadent pleasure the night needed to be, free of heavy emotions. Nothing but pleasure in its purest, most unadulterated form.

She looked beside her, where John sat, watching. His cock, she was shocked to discover, had begun to rise again. Viagra had to be at play here. She looked at Max, wondering how much the two men had conspired to get them to this moment. Then decided she really didn’t care.

Twisting around, she wrapped her hand around his cock and took him into her mouth. She could taste herself on him, along with the residuals of his come. She swirled her tongue, feeling him expand as she sucked. She wanted to feel him inside her again, she realized, complicated emotions or not.

“Oh, Kates, that’s so hot,” Max said. She glanced at him, catching his riveted expression as she sucked off another man.

Katie slurped away at John, her voice rough from a night of moans and oral sex. “Sorry, babe, I couldn’t resist. John’s got such a nice, big dick.”

Max’s face tightened. She knew that expression. It was the anguished look of her husband coming. It felt good that she knew him so well, that she could stroke his emotions like a virtuoso. Nadia gasped between Katie’s thighs as she joined Max in his orgasm.

Katie looked up at John, who was staring at Nadia and Max with the same pained lust Max had shown when watching them earlier. She realized she felt the same way. Sliding out from under Nadia, she rolled a condom onto John, turned in his lap, and slotted him into her.

“That’s better,” she sighed.

John smiled. “Our turn?”

Katie nodded, looking down at Nadia’s shaved pussy, red and ready.

“Eat her,” Max said. “Make that slave girl come. Your prince demands it.”

Katie embraced the harem girl role again. For tonight, on Halloween, she was pleased to serve.

Nothing ForbiddenThis is an excerpt from Nothing Forbidden, due to hit online bookstores November 20. Preorder it at Amazon today, or follow me on Twitter, @kennywriter. And if you haven’t read it yet (or want a refresher), Nothing Forbidden is the follow-up to last year’s Something Forbidden.

Stories

The Ballet

/

From the upcoming release, Wife Sharing Shorts, Vol. 1. Look for it on Tuesday, Jul 15.

“Are you sure?” Kara asked for the fifth time. I knew that this time was the last.

“I am,” I said. “We talked about this. A lot. Go. Have fun.”

Kara studied me, her expression unreadable. She looked gorgeous—and not just because of the short black dress she wore, or the way she’d brushed her dark hair into lustrous waves.

My wife looked gorgeous because she was about to go on a date with another man.

“I love you, Curtis. No matter what.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on my chest. Could she feel my heartbeat hammering away?

“I know, Kara. This is just a new adventure for us.” It was a thing we’d been reassuring ourselves with since I’d first broached the fantasy of other men, and Kara had admitted that it turned her on, too. “I can’t wait to hear all about it when you’re back.”

She stepped right up against me, filling my nose with her perfume—perfume she’d always put on for our dates. I thought she might say more, give me one last out. Instead, she kissed me, long and languid. I could taste the waxiness of her lipstick—bright red against her pale skin. Her hand caressed the back of my neck.

She’d kiss him like that later tonight. Could I handle that?

“Okay, I’m going.” Kara always had a sweet voice, but tonight it sounded husky around the edges. If I hadn’t known with absolute certainty that this was as much her fantasy as it was mine, that uncharacteristically throaty admission would have convinced me.

“Have fun, honey.”

The last bits of concern fell away, replaced by something mischievous. “Oh, I plan to. Definitely don’t wait up.”

And with that, Kara left for her date.

****

That night, I discovered what it felt like to hyperventilate in slow motion. To breathe and breathe and never get enough air.

In a way, I was used to this. Kara often worked the night shift in the ER, leaving me and our kids after dinner and coming back the next morning. But the kids were with my family this weekend, and she was going to have dinner with someone else.

As I ate alone, I wondered where she was. The plan was for dinner and an evening at the ballet—hence her getting dressed up. She’d won two tickets to tonight’s performance of the New York City Ballet Company and coincidentally, ostensibly, I couldn’t go because of a “work trip.”

The set-up was too perfect to pass up.

Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of them together—Kara and her ex. I’d only ever seen him in photos, and very few at that. After dinner, I headed into the den on auto-pilot, pulling down the old photo albums.

I had three photos from years ago, back in Kara’s Penn State undergrad days—years before we’d met.

On top was a photo of David by himself, posing in front of a navy blue Mustang.

He was the opposite of me. Where I was dark-haired and built like a runner, David was an All-American blond kid with broad shoulders and the kind of jaw I associated with shaving commercials and superheroes.

Kara was in the other two—a 20-year-old Kara looking happy snuggled under his arm. I could see the beautiful woman she’d become in the smiling girl, but it was still hard to connect the two brunettes.

Did you love him? I’d asked when I’d first discovered these photos.

She’d just laughed. David and I had a good time, but no, I didn’t love him. And then, as if by explanation, she’d added, It was college. You know?

I didn’t. My college experience mostly involved networked computer games and cheap beer. I didn’t join a frat—or even go to frat parties—and my only hookups were with girls I was serious about. Girls I could imagine a life with.

Thinking that Kara might have been involved in a purely physical relationship blew me away. I’d always looked at her through the lens of my own life.

It was college. You know?

She was laughing in one of the photos. Laughing at something David said? At the man himself?

My phone buzzed. A text. I didn’t want to look at it, yet I couldn’t resist. It was kind of a theme for us.

–done with dinner. headed to the ballet

My heart fluttered. My cock stiffened. The night would continue. Kara wouldn’t be coming home early.

–enjoy it

My hands shook as I pressed send. I waited for a response for a solid five minutes before finally putting away the phone and moving upstairs. No response. She was already with him.

My thought was to take a cold shower, but even I’m not as masochistic as that. I turned it up high and stepped beneath the spray. My mind wandered.

Who’s the square jaw? I’d asked months ago, when I’d first found David’s photo in the attic.

Oh, just a guy I used to know.

Her cryptic answer had kicked off a discussion that led us here, to tonight. At one point, that journey had been so important. The what ifs. The hypotheticals. The confessions. Now, all I could think about was Kara in David’s arms.

When we’d looked him up back then, we learned that he’d gone into the State Department after school and ended up traveling the world. Kara and I had settled down in a suburb in upstate New York, falling in love with the schools as much as the Norman Rockwell setting to raise a family.

So when Kara friended David on Facebook and discovered that he’d be flying in for a meeting a few towns over, it took the fantasy to a whole new level.

A level that led us to the ballet.

My cock swelled in my soapy hands, feeling huge. I braced a hand on the slick tile wall and jerked myself in fluid strokes. I called to mind Kara’s dress—an LBD she’d bought specifically for tonight. She’d bought lingerie for him, too, a point she seemed to delight in sharing with me. She rarely purchased sexy underwear, relying on me to buy those things for her on special occasions. When I saw the black bra and g-string, the stockings with their lacy bands and the garter belt to hold them in place—all of which were new—it almost took my breath away.

I loved it. It was hard to admit, but I loved every aspect of this fantasy. Even the ones that hurt—especially the ones that hurt. I loved discovering this secret side of Kara, one that ran so counter to the mom I knew, the wife I loved, the doctor I respected.

Do you want to fuck him?

Yes. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.

Kara had been so excited when she’d admitted that to me. So fucking wet.

I thought of the text again. Headed to the ballet. That was sent what? Twenty minutes ago? Twenty-five?

My balls seized. I went light-headed. Stars clustered behind my eyelids. Headed to the ballet. The ballet. Oh God…

There was no ballet. There never was. It was code between us. Code that meant she’d decided to go back to his hotel room and sleep with him.

I came with a bark. That thought drove the wind from me as surely as a swift kick. And yet I came harder than I had in ages.

The shower washed my mess away as I recovered. Sapped, I dragged myself out of the stall and toweled off. My mind, for once, was blank.

I brushed my teeth, barely seeing my pale visage reflected back at me. Going into the medicine cabinet for the floss, I spotted a new box on the lower shelf. A box of condoms.

My chest tightened. It was open. Four of the six wrappers were missing. Four.

I shut the cabinet, forgetting about the floss, and crawled into bed naked.

****

Time passed, although I couldn’t tell you if I slept. I kept my phone by my side—in my hand, worried that I’d miss a text. We passed ten o’clock. Then midnight. Then three in the morning.

I must have dozed, but if I did, my dreams were filled with the same images as my waking thoughts: David and his All-American good looks taking my wife again and again. Filling her with his inevitably huge cock. Reminding her of the girl who could have a purely physical relationship.

I didn’t jerk off—not since the shower—but I never grew soft either. My wife was out fucking another man. Two weeks ago, the thought alone made me instantly hard. Now it was happening and it was every bit as intense as I’d imagined.

I was jealous, excited, scared shitless, envious, self-pitying, turned on… The list could go on and on, filled with paradox and contradiction and, ultimately, truth.

Kara was out there, another man satisfying her, and I was back in our bed. Alone.

And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

****

Kara finally came home at nine the next morning—9:06 if I wanted to be precise about it. Her hair was wet. Her make-up scrubbed. She looked as exhausted as I felt, but couldn’t stop smiling from where she stood in the bedroom door. It wasn’t a smile for me.

“You have fun?”

She didn’t startle; she’d known I was awake in bed. But she seemed to see me for the first time.

“Yeah. I had a lot of fun.”

She entered the room, morning light spilling over her. She still wore the little black dress, but held her heels in her hand, and her stockings were gone.

I held out my hand. “Tell me about it.”

She came to me, sitting by the edge of the bed. She caressed my cheek, then kissed me on the forehead. Was that a man’s cologne I smelled? Another man’s musk?

“I will. But I need to rest.” She looked me in the eyes. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Yeah?” I didn’t add that I didn’t, either.

Her smile brought out her natural beauty—the way her cheekbones were more defined from those photos of her in college. Had David noticed?

She said at last, “The ballet was really good.”

“Good performances?” I started to harden.

“Great, I’d say.” Then added, “Better than I remembered.”

We laughed at one another. She was killing me. How could she read me so well?

She stood again and slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulder. With a shimmy, it pooled around her ankles. She wore nothing beneath—gone were the stockings, the g-string I’d spied, the expensive bra that I’d never seen.

Her tits, full and ripe, were marked with red where her pale skin had been mauled. Her nipples seemed darker than I remembered them being. But it was the sight between her legs that sucked my breath away.

The trimmed landing strip of hair—tidied up for last night—drew my eyes down to her shaved pussy lips, angry red from use. The last scraps of hope that this had all been some elaborate ruse evaporated. My stomach churned. I was both happy, and so scared I forgot to breathe.

“Yes, we had sex.”

Kara’s words snapped my attention back to her. She shared a rueful smile with me before sliding into bed on my side, edging me over.

“Kara—”

She cut me off with a kiss, strong and demanding. She trailed a hand down between us, finding me naked. Finding me hard.

“Does it turn you on, knowing I was with another man last night?” She squeezed me, adding, “All night?”

“Oh, God.”

“You’re not going to come yet, are you?”

My face tightened. I was. I couldn’t stop myself. I’d kept my orgasm on edge through the fitful night.

Kara dove beneath the sheets. I felt the wet envelope of her mouth just as I blew. She sucked and swallowed. I groaned. It was all happening so fast.

“Well,” she said. She crawled out from under the blankets and snuggled against me. The skin-to-skin contact was amazing.

“I’m sorry.” I felt humiliated having come so prematurely. Surely David had had more restraint.

“Don’t be, honey. I’ve had more than enough orgasms tonight.” Her smile said it all. She had my number.

“Tell me something. Anything.”

Kara tickled her fingers through my chest hair. “I still love you, and only you.”

I groaned. “Not what I had in mind.”

“I know,” she said. “But it’s important that you remember that. Keeps things in perspective when I tell you about how I let another man have me.”

“How?” I squeaked.

“Any way he wanted.”

I gulped.

Kara continued. “He first kissed me at the restaurant, around dessert. We’d been having a good time, talking about Penn State and sharing what we knew about old friends—apparently I’m better connected than he is, but that’s not surprising. It was fun, but tame.”

“Until the kiss,” I said.

“Until the kiss. After that, when I didn’t discourage him, we both knew where the night was headed.”

“Is that when you texted me? About the ballet?”

“Oh, no. By the time I texted you, I’d already given him a blowjob as he drove us back to his hotel.”

I was hard again. “You what?”

“Well, it seemed silly for us to take separate cars, so I rode with him in his rental.” She curled her hand around my erection. “Or are you asking about the blowjob?”

“Yeah. That.”

Kara laughed. “That was crazy, but fun. wasn’t my idea to do that while he was driving, but it was really exciting.”

She shifted over me. Before I even realized what was happening, she’d impaled herself on my cock. I sank into her without resistance. She was so wet, and so…stretched out?

Kara took up the conversation again. “I thought that every person in the hotel lobby knew what I was up to. It was so naughty.” She shivered. “We rode the elevator up with some others, so nothing more than some hand-holding went on there. But as soon as he had me inside his room…”

She looked down at me. “Go on,” I said.

“He stripped me. At least out of my dress and bra. We were all over each other, hands getting reacquainted.”

“He liked what he saw?”

“Oh yeah. He…he said I looked better than back in college.”

I thought of those photos in the den. “You do.”

She nodded. “Of course, he was trying to fuck me. He would’ve said anything.”

“And did he? At that point?”

Kara took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“How? What position were you in? How did it happen?”

“Well…” She started fucking me faster, undulating her hips in a way that sent amazing sensations along my shaft. “We kissed. We stripped. We found ourselves on the bed. I…” She checked on me, making sure I was still okay. “I rolled him onto his back, straddled him, and fucked him.”

Her confession reverberating along the walls of my soul. I would never forget them. Not for the rest of my life.

It also meant that she’d done the initiating. She’d been the one to sit on him, to guide him into her. To sink down on another man’s hard cock.

“Our first time was a lot like what we’re doing now, only…”

“Only?” I prompted.

“He was bigger than you.”

“A lot?” My chest tightened.

“Oh, yeah.”

“And you liked that?”

Kara smiled weakly down at me, her orgasm moments away. “Do I like feeling a nice, big cock in me? Filling me up in ways that you never could?”

“Kara…”

“Any girl who says that size doesn’t matter has never been with a guy like David. It was amazing.”

My balls tightened. “Kara—”

“And it wasn’t that he was so huge. It was that he knew how to use it. Some of the ways he fucked me… Some of the angles, the way he changed speed… The man had learned quite a few tricks since college.”

“Oh, Kara!”

Kara grinded into me, squeezing down as I filled her. I heard her peak and crest above me, crashing through her own orgasm.

“Ngh, yes!” Her voice strained through the moans. “You feel so good. Fill me. Fill me, Curtis!”

Hearing my name in her cries sent warmth through my body. I stroked her hips. Her back. I kissed her in the shadow of her orgasm, our appetites slaked for the moment. We reconnected in that familiar kiss.

“You’re incredible, Kara.”

“I know.” She giggled. “Thanks for last night. I’ll never forget it.”

“I’m glad you went.” My insecurities bubbled up before I could stop them. “And I’m glad you came back.”

“Of course I did, honey. I will always come back.”

My heart skipped a beat at the implication. “So you think you’ll do it again?”

My cock had softened enough to slip from her warmth, but she was still close enough that I could feel her slippery excitement.

“I think that the ballet may come around a few more times in our future.” She laughed.

“Oh yeah?”

“In fact, I heard they had an encore performance tonight. Last night before they leave town.” She kissed the crook of my neck.

“Sounds like something you don’t want to miss.”

Kara pulled back, her dark hair spilling around us. “I’ve already said yes. Which is why I need my rest.”

She was going to see him again. She was going to see him and hadn’t even asked. I was glad that she hadn’t.

“Get some sleep, hon,” I said, slipping out of bed.

Kara turned over in the bed, tugging the bed sheets against her. She looked like a nude model, tastefully draped. “Where are you going?”

“Buying you some more condoms. You’re going to need more than two.”

She smiled, shutting her eyes to the happy memory of last night—and the promise of later today. “Actually, I still have four from last night, and I think there are more in the medicine cabinet… But, really, I don’t need them. They’re too small anyway.”

If you liked what you just read, check out the complete collection in Wife Sharing Shorts, Vol. 1. You’ll find three more stories by me, plus an exclusive story from Max Sebastian. Coming this Tuesday, July 15!

Stories

No More Lonely Valentines

/

banner-vday

This is one of my older stories, found in a dustbin and only marginally dusted off, but I figured that it was appropriate for the day. Happy Valentine’s Day!

She worked my cock with her mouth, warm and wet. Her tongue swirled miracles along the underside of my shaft. Soft fingers traced circles between my legs. Her soft hair brushed my thighs. I was close. I could feel my release boiling.

Opening my eyes, I looked down at the beauty between my legs. Her sun-kissed brown hair, shining in the morning light streaming through the windows, was tucked over one ear, the rest spilling languidly across the other—across her naked shoulder to the small brown nipple of her left breast. Her soft brown eyes danced as they met my own. My body shuddered.

So beautiful. High cheekbones. Long lashes. Full lips. Lips that knew exactly what to do.

And once again, my heart skipped as I watched Mrs. Price between my legs. It was fucking Jerry’s mom! As though she were reading my mind, the brunette pulled off my cock to smile, the corners of her mouth turning up, her eyes brightening even further. She continued to stroke my saliva-glistening shaft with one hand before winking and dipping her head back down, swallowing me up. As I felt the head of my erection enter her throat, my breath caught.

She sensed my coming orgasm and pumped me faster. So good. So close. “I’m going to—”

RING RING!

“I’m going to—”

RING RING!

I was jarred from my sleep, disoriented. I clawed for the alarm clock. What time is it? And why wasn’t that sound going away, no matter how many times I pounded the snooze button?

RING RING!

Not my alarm clock. My phone. Ringing. Scrambling, I got to the phone just as it stopped ringing.

One call missed. “Via 19.”

Shit, the restaurant had called. And then it dawned on me. The time. 7:05. My shift was starting! Had started five minutes ago!

I was out of bed as though someone had thrown a bag of live vipers into it, a two minute shower, a three minute dress job, and to the Metro. Unfortunately, the DC Metro wasn’t the most punctual transit system at the best of times, and my ride into the city today was particularly delayed. Fate’s way of saying, “Fuck you.”

I’d only been at this job for about a month and a half, starting it just after the New Year as a way to supplement my income before my upcoming graduation in June. College wasn’t cheap, and while my parents had agreed to pay for some of the tuition, it was up to me to make up the difference. But high school and working nights didn’t always work well together, and I found that I used most of my free time sleeping or doing homework.

Of course, sleeping wasn’t always that bad. Especially when I had dreams like this morning. I had fantasized about Mrs. Price since I was old enough to fantasize, and the one I had just been having was nothing new—although maybe a bit more intense than usual. Jerry and I had been friends and neighbors since we childhood and his mom was nearly a second mother to me. Nearly.

Jerry went off to college last year and since then, I had only seen Mrs. Price a handful of times.

A train pulled up and suddenly, thoughts of the pretty brunette mother fled my mind, replaced once again by the anxiety of getting fired.

Via 19 is an upscale French place nestled just off 19th and N in a quiet little neighborhood, just south of Dupont Circle. Its patronage is on the higher end, its atmosphere is soft and quiet, and its management is… uncompromising. I found that out as I was told to turn in my work uniform before I even had a chance to explain.

“You can use the back exit on your way out,” Mr. Blanc said in his snobby French accent.

Sighing, I tried one last time to explain. After all, this was the first time I’d ever been late. Surely he could—

“No!” he said, nose up, head shaking.

“Fine,” I said as calmly as I could. “If you’re not even going to listen to what I have to say, then I have no desire to work here.” And with that, I unbuckled my black trousers, pulled them off, unbuttoned my black shirt, handed them to an open mouthed Frenchman, and marched towards the bus doors leading into the restaurant.

Mr. Blanc got hysterical when I realized my intentions. I was going to parade through his restaurant in just my boxers and a t-shirt. I was already grinning.

“Wait! Go out the back!”

I ignored him, pushing through the doors and passing Cheryl, a pretty server who I’d had a small crush on since joining. Her mouth dropped open.

It was only when I had actually entered the restaurant proper, doors swinging shut behind me, kitchen noises growing muffled, that I realized how embarrassing this situation could be. Not just for Mr. Blanc—which was the goal—but for myself. I had failed to take into account two things: one, that taking off my shirt and pants and walking through a room full of strangers was going to involve a bunch of strangers and me; and two, of all the days that I’d decided to make this scene, I had to do it on February 14. Valentine’s Day. Via 19 was normally crowded on a Saturday night, but tonight it was brimming. The vestibule was packed with people waiting to be seated. The bar (located between myself and the door, naturally) was hopping. And every table was filled.

The hush traveled like a wave through the crowd as they looked up. At me. Boy, was my face red. At least no one here would recognize me, I told myself, taking comfort in that anonymity.

Of course, the moment I thought this, I spotted, in the corner, Mrs. Price. Of all people, my gorgeous neighbor. My heart sank as our eyes met. Even from across a dimly lit room, she was beautiful. The delicate, European bone structure of her face glowed in the candlelight, her lips glossy and her long hair shining and smooth. She put a hand to her mouth, to cover the smile that formed at the corners of her lips. My face burned even more. I walked to the door quicker, eyes on the ground, ears on fire.

“I’m sorry for the disturbance. Everything’s fine.” Mr. Blanc’s voice behind me suggested everything but. “This crazy man no longer works here.”

I hoped that Mr. Blanc drew everyone’s attention away from me, but I dared not look up to check.

When I nearly got to the door, I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. With my head down, all I could see was the lady’s legs: long, slender, and bare. A short white skirt hung around the middle of her thighs. I knew who this was the second I saw those legs. I hadn’t been fantasizing about them for years for nothing.

Mrs. Price was even more breathtaking this close. Her white dress was simple and elegant, hugging her slim body just tightly enough to let you know that she had a good one. The purity of the whiteness contrasted with the light tan of her skin, her bare arms, the smooth lines of her long neck and collarbone. At last, my eyes alighted on her own, large and brown, beautiful. Even in her late 30s, she had managed to fight off the presence of wrinkles, and the way she wore make-up was to emphasize her high cheekbones, her graceful nose, and her soft lips—very different from the girls my own age, who didn’t understand the proper way to apply mascara, thinking that more was always better.

“Hey, Danny, rough day?” A hint of a smile glinted in her eyes.

My face colored. I couldn’t seem to form a word.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s too cold for you to go walking outside like that…” She made a quick gesture to my bare legs, but kept her face solemn.

The valet brought her Mercedes up to the curb, giving me a smirk as I got into the plush interior of my neighbor’s car.

I couldn’t help watching Mrs. Price’s long legs as she slipped into the driver’s side, noticing the tall white pumps she’d worn, and the way her dress slid up just a bit on the leather seats. She tossed her jacket to me.

“Here, cover up before you freeze to death.”

“Thanks.”

In the cold, her nipples were hard and high on the ends of her small, perky breasts. I looked away before she caught me staring.

“I’m sorry to cut your night short, Mrs. Price. Did you even order?”

“No, but that’s okay. I was thinking that I was just about finished with that place anyway…”

Then something occurred to me. “Your date!”

She laughed to herself.

“I think he’ll understand,” she said quietly.

Mr. Price had died just over five years earlier, driving just a little too fast on an icy road. No one else was injured. I hadn’t known Mrs. Price was dating again, and in a strange and irrational way, it made me jealous.

“Um… if you don’t mind, could you not drop me off at home just yet? I don’t really want to deal with my parents right now.”

She looked at me from behind the wheel, appraising me, then nodded.

“Sure, but I’m not dropping you off at the Metro like that. You have a girlfriend I can bring you by?”

I shook my head.

“I’m saving myself for you.”

I groaned inwardly. Did I really just say that?

Her neatly trimmed eyebrows shot up.

“Is that so, young man? Then you probably should stop calling me Mrs. Price. You should also know that I only date men who wear pants.” Then, staring at me, she added, “Most of the time.”

Had she really made that joke with me? It made me feel very adult.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t do much about that.”

“Why don’t we go swing by my place and you can wear a pair of Jerry’s jeans. He’s about your size, right? And then we can go and grab something to eat. How does that sound?”

“Sound great, um, Morgan.” Her name didn’t sound right coming out of my mouth, even though it was the name my mom used all the time.

I thought that Mrs. Price was going to change out of her formal dress, so I chose a pair of Jerry’s jeans that he’d left behind when he went to college. Splashing water in my face, I regretted not having shaved. Having dark, shaggy hair was nice, but because my hair was so dark, I had to shave it daily or else develop a wicked five o’clock shadow.

When I came down, the mother-of-one was standing there, her long, sleek black coat over that same white dress. Her hair, I noticed for the first time, looked professionally styled. She had a Southern belle thing going on with her normally straight brown hair falling in ringlets where it wasn’t pinned up and off her neck.

We went to a local pizza place for dinner, making an odd couple: her in her short silk dress, me in my jeans and t-shirt, sitting on either side of a red and white checkered table. Despite the potential for awkwardness, though, things were relaxed.

“So, how are things with you, Danny?”

We talked about my life, about school, about the schools I wanted to go to. And the whole time, I was staring into those large, beautiful eyes and thinking how sad she looked.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Price—er, Morgan.” The name still stumbled off my tongue.

She smiled at my slip, and nodded. God, I could get used to those smiles. Like nothing mattered but me.

She exhaled, as though releasing something pent up over many, many years.

“You know, I have this tradition. Just over five years, Jim was killed.” She grimaced. “I was… a mess back then. I real… mess. I refused to acknowledge that he was gone. And then, the call came from Via 19 for our Valentine’s Day dinner reservation. That was when the reality finally sank in. He was gone, and we’d never have dinner out together. We’d never cuddle in the mornings. We’d never argue, and make up.”

Her eyes were glazed, far-away.

“I forced myself to go to that dinner. I ate by myself. It was my way of dealing with it. And you know what?” She was looking at me again. “It worked. Kind of, anyway. I slowly accepted that he wasn’t coming back. I’ve gone back every year for Valentine’s Day. And every year, it gets easier.”

Silence descended and the pizza came. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry to disturb your… tradition with my scene.”

And one more time, that smile emerged, warm and full, touching her eyes and enveloping me. She shook her head.

“No, Danny, don’t worry about it.” She reached across the table and covered my own hand. Her palms were soft, her fingers delicate and warm. “It was exactly what I needed. I need to move on with my life. It’s been over five years, you know? And I’m only 37. I’m not ready to stop enjoying life just yet.”

She sat back, took her glass of red wine, and toasted.

“To renewal.” Then, “To Valentine’s Day.”

I held up my Coke. She laughed, then sipped her wine.

“I must look old and pathetic to you. How old are you? 18?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah, 18, but I don’t think you seem old and pathetic. You’re… gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” She averted her eyes.

I stared at her, shaking my head as though she still didn’t believe it.

“I’m serious… Morgan! I wish that I could get someone as beautiful as you to even look twice at me.”

“Don’t think you’ll have any trouble there,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Excuse me?” My ears must be playing tricks on me. Did she just say that?

“Danny.” Her eyes were back on me. “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re a hunk. I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend. I can’t believe you don’t have girls crawling all over you.”

Now it was my turn to blush and look away. For this stunning woman to be telling me that I was a hunk was absurd. So, possessed by this absurdity, I blurted, “So, um, will you be my Valentine?”

Her smile spread wider. Her teeth were perfect, pearly white and perfectly straight.

“I would be honored.” She laughed delicately. “What are my duties, as your Valentine?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Well, first of all, you’ll have to split a chocolate brownie sundae with me.”

“So, you’re trying to get me fat?!”

I glanced down at her. She probably didn’t have an ounce of body fat on her. “You could use a little bit more meat on you.”

“AH!” she said in pseudo-anger. “Anything else?”

“Let’s see… how about a massage?” Where did that come from?

“Done. Anything else?” Whoa… how far could I push this joke?

“Your bedroom or mine?”

Some of that bravado that had overwhelmed me at the restaurant had returned. But I smiled, making sure she knew I was joking.

“I think that mine would be more convenient. No chance of your parents bursting in and interrupting us.”

She, too, was smiling, but there was something more to her tone than playful flirting.

“You know, I haven’t slept with someone since Jim?” She froze, flicking her eyes up at me. “God, I can’t believe I just said that! No more wine for me.”

I felt embarrassed for her, but also privileged that she felt comfortable enough to tell me that. “So that’s five years, you say? Wow, I should stop complaining about my six months.”

She covered her mouth as she burst out laughing. It was wonderful to hear her so happy. “Maybe we really should go back to my place. HA!”

The dessert arrived, one plate, two spoons. I even got to spoon feed her, watching her soft lips close over my spoon, sucking the ice cream off slowly. I shivered. “Let’s get out of here.”

The drive home was filled with the same comfortable, flirtatious banter that the dinner was. Thoughts of the evening, of her lonely Valentine’s Day dinner and my disastrously embarrassing display, were distant history. She pulled into her driveway. The evening was over, yet I didn’t want it to be. I felt so full of energy. I felt like I could run for hours and hours, shouting at the sleeping homes on either side of our quiet suburban neighborhood how wonderful the world was.

“Thanks for a great evening,” I said, starting to head off towards my own sleeping home, when she grabbed my hand. I had more to shiver about than just the cold.

“I owe you a massage,” she said, pulling me playfully towards her house. “Come on in.”

As she unlocked the door, I felt a rush that normally accompanies doing something bad: the first drag off my first joint, stealing cigarettes from the 7-11, breaking into the school after dark with my ex-girlfriend to fuck on our English teacher’s desk. The thought of that encounter, of sex in general, brought heat to the back of my neck and the tops of my ears, and I felt my cock stir in my pants.

Inside, she kept most of the lights off, switching on a small lamp beside her couch.

“So… take a seat over there.”

I went to the couch where she’d pointed and looked back over my shoulder. She stood there, tall and slender in the shadows. She stepped out of her heels, then released her hair. The curled waves of light brown fell around her shoulders before she pushed them over her ears. Maybe it was the elegance of her dress, maybe it was the way she held herself, the sureness of her movements, but even in the low light, there was no mistaking that Morgan Price was a woman, not any of the girls I had ever been in this situation with.

Padding quietly across the room, she sat softly behind me.

“How’s this feel?” she asked as her long and firm fingers when to work on my shoulders and neck.

I responded with a sigh. It felt great, actually.

“You’re very tense, young man,” she laughed. “Is there something that’s making you nervous?”

Possibly the semi-hard erection I was sporting in my pants, and my fear that she’d see it. I decided not to respond.

“This night has been so wonderful, Danny. I haven’t been this happy in… years.” Her fingers began to work themselves out along my broad shoulders.

She whispering in my ear, startlingly close. I could feel her hot breath; I could smell her light perfume.

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

When her lips brushed across my neck, I sighed. A weight was withdrawn from my whole body and at last, I relaxed. Her butterfly kisses walked down my neck, at the opening of my t-shirt. Then her hot lips were gone. I looked over my shoulder at her, right into her eyes. She was smiling, her eyes warm with resignation.

“I shouldn’t do this, but it feels so right…” she whispered, her lips inches from my own.

Our lips melded into one, our slick tongues quickly finding one another, dancing playfully within her wet mouth. I reached behind me, circling the back of her head so I could draw her closer. I felt her soft breasts against my back, and her hands soon worked their way up under my shirt, across my flat abs, and over the hardness of my chest. I felt her sigh into my mouth as her hands explored the contours of my muscles. I grew rigid with that exploration.

But I needed more. My hormones were taking charge and I needed to touch this incredible creature behind me. I twisted into her, pushing her back against the plush couch cushions. My lips and tongue never left hers. I ran a hand down her body, feeling her warmth beneath the thin material of her dress: her ribs, her soft waist, her athletically slim hips.

Her thighs felt like warm silk. My fingers moved up under the hem of her dress of their own volition. She felt my hand and her kissing intensified, her tongue pushing against mine, seeking the back of my throat. Her own hands began to claw my back under my t-shirt, grasping at the bottom and lifting it up and off. We broke our kiss long enough to pull that shirt over my head. I caught the look in her large brown eyes. They smoldered.

My hand between her legs crept higher. The other cupped her small breast, feeling the thin lace of her bra and the hardness of her nipple through that. She gasped, a groan forming in the base of her throat as my hand moved up and over her ass.

To my surprise, I found she wore a thong, her tight buttocks left bare. Crawling further up onto the couch, I ground my hardon into her other thigh, sliding a knee between her legs, closer and closer to the warmth of her sex.

She groaned, breaking our kiss for a moment as my knee made contact with the damp lace. Even through the jeans, I could feel the fire radiating from her cleft. I pulled her closer, tighter against me. Her hand snaked down and into the jeans, searching out my shaft.

Things were moving faster than I had ever imagined. One minute I was receiving a comforting massage from Mrs. Price; the next, Morgan had her hand down my pants and her tongue down my throat. The brunette fumbled with the button on my jeans, opening my pants for easier access to my cock.

“Oh, baby…” she moaned as she felt it long and hard in her small hand.

Pushing me away from her, onto my back now, she crawled across me, her lithe body slithering snake-like along my exposed chest. The silk of her dress caressed my straining erection.

“I need you in me, Danny. I can’t wait any longer.” As she said this, she reached under her dress and pulled her thong off, tossing the scrap of white material onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry. I promise you more foreplay later. But right now, I need to feel this thing inside me.”

She had my cock in her hand again and was positioning herself over me, still wearing her dress. This isn’t how I imagined it going in my fantasies, but hell, I wasn’t complaining. Her expert hands guided the head of my member into the moist lips of her vagina and we groaned in unison. The brunette was tight. Incredibly tight. The couple girls I’d been with had been tight as well, but not like this. She wasn’t lying about five years.

She’d push her way down a little, then pull up before pushing down again, slowly coating my erection in her flowing moistness, slowly adjusting to my girth.

She moaned through her clenched teeth, a sweat working up on her brow. Pushing her long brown hair from her face, she slowly ground down on me, pain mixing into pleasure as I penetrated her for the first time.

“Oh, God! Uhhh…”

“Yeah…” I myself groaned. Based on my limited experience with women, I’ve found that I’m usually quiet. But Mrs. Morgan Price’s pussy felt too good to stay quiet over.

When at last I was buried fully, she opened her eyes and smiled down at me.

“God, this feels so good.”

With that, she began to gyrate her hips, massaging herself with my cock. Leaning down against me, we brought our lips together in a passionate embrace as I began to slide in and out of her. My hands were all over her body, tracing down the line of her back, her bare shoulders, her neck, her thighs and ass. I took hold of the hem of her dress and began to pull it up. I needed to see more. I needed her naked.

She helped. Together we pulled her dress free, leaving her naked but for her lacy white bra. Blood pounded in my temples as I glanced upon Morgan’s nudity for the first time. Long and compact from what I could only imagine to be hours spent in the gym, she was awesome.

She removed her bra as I gawked at her, my eyes immediately going to her round breasts, small on her svelte body, but perfectly suited for her willowy frame. Her tan was complete, I noticed with some surprise as my eyes traveled further down her body and across her flat stomach.

Her compact pussy lips stretched themselves around my girth as she slowly undulated her body with skillful grace. This wasn’t the unpracticed, frantic humping of a teenager. Morgan knew what she was doing, she knew exactly what brought her pleasure, and she did it.

When I finally pulled my eyes away from her tight body and looked at her, hovering above me, long, shiny hair framing her face, I saw the amusement that danced in her eyes. The enjoyment. “See something you like?”

I was speechless, opening and closing my mouth like a fish.

“Shh…” she reassured me with an almost motherly affection. “Don’t speak, just enjoy.”

Once again, she lowered her body to me, bring her lips to mine. But this time, she was naked, her firm breasts and hard little nipples meeting my own naked chest. Her flesh was warm and soft, like lotion, and she smelled fresh and feminine.

We fell into a rhythm, the darkness of the living room punctuated with her soft crooning and my quiet grunts. Every once in awhile, she’d moan softly, whisper, “Yesss…” to no one in particular as her pussy worked its magic along my young cock.

It was perhaps the most pleasure I’d ever felt in my 18 years. But as they say, all good things must come to an end. Only this time, this good thing would blossom into more good things. Our quiet, soft love-making yielded into stronger, harder thrusts. Martin panted hard, her words unintelligible. She pulled her mouth from mine so she could pump her hips against mine harder.

Her voice was strained, fevered. “More! Yes! God yes!”

She sat up higher as she worked me and my hands quickly descended on her tits, tweaking her nipples as she writhed harder and harder above me. Hands in her hair, head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, Morgan—Mrs. Price—came violently, loudly, on my cock. It was an image that will be burned in my head for the rest of my life.

I came with her, no amount of self-control able to save me from such a sight. It was only as I felt my cum race up through my cock that I realized that I was erupting directly into her depths, into her unprotected womb. But the worries passed out of my concern as quickly as they came, disappearing in a wash of pleasure unlike any other.

She grunted hard, the sound forming deep in her throat, primal and true.

She was grinding her hips down onto my pubic bone, her swollen labia hard against my pubic hair.

Long after I was spent, all my energy packed up and thrust into her tightness, Morgan came down from her rolling orgasms, collapsing—sweaty and panting—against my limp body.

We lay there in silence, listening to one another’s deep breathing, until the sweat of our workout began to cool on our naked bodies.

“Danny,” she cooed, kissing me lightly on the neck, “that was incredible.”

We kissed tenderly and at last, she pulled herself free of me.

“I’m getting cold,” she said. “Care to join me in the shower? Or better yet, a bath?”

Without waiting for me, she stood up and stretched. “God, you’re beautiful,” I said aloud.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she winked back at me, then began to lazily make her way towards the stairs. I watched her for a moment, marveling at the tightness of her buttocks, and the deep dimples that formed at the base of her spine. I thought of Nicole Kidman. I thought of a wild cat.

Then I followed her.

She started the bath—a large whirlpool easily big enough for the two of us—and sprinkled some bath salt and rose petals in. She lit candles around the bath and I stood there, watching as her nude form danced in the soft light. Blowing out her match, she looked at me, her bangs hanging over her left eye.

“What?”

I felt my cock begin to stir once again as she slinked her trim body towards me. The trickle of cum down her thigh did nothing to detract from her grace, nor did the wetness of her pussy.

She ran her fingers along my chest, leaning into me and whispering again, “What?”

I took her head in my hands, bringing her lips forcefully to my mouth. I would never grow tired of kissing this woman.

She placed delicate kisses down my neck, over my chest, leading a trail down my body. Slipping to her knees before me, she flashed me a wicked smile. At first, she just stroked me, my cock blossoming to its full length in her hands. She was doing. I could see it in her eyes. Just as I couldn’t take it anymore, she formed an O with her mouth and sucked in my head.

I thought of my dream, just a few hours earlier, but the pleasure that the brunette administered with her mouth was better than any dream. Her technique was perfect, the ideal amount of pressure and tongue play. She jacked my shaft with her fingers as her head bobbed, slurping noisily. With her cheeks sunken in with her suction, she looked even more like a model, even more angelic.

She sped up as I drew close, feeling my balls tighten, feeling my orgasm approaching. Her mouth was so soft, so wet. Tongue corkscrewing along the underside. Fingers tight, lubricated by her own saliva. Slurping, then moaning onto me. Oh my God, her left hand was between her legs, fingering herself on her knees. Too much. Too close. And—

She pulled off me, sitting back on her knees, letting the moment pass. My cock strained, threatening to fire anyway. Somehow I was able to rein myself in, my balls groaning in complaint.

Morgan found her voice and stood.

“I think the water’s ready.”

I slipped into the bath first, the brunette’s warm body settling down against me. Rose petals floated around her hard nipples and my hands caressed her body beneath the water. One hand cupped a small breast as the other found the soft nest between her legs.

“Ahhh…” Morgan cooed, leaning back further into me. “Your hands feel wonderful.”

“You feel wonderful,” I whispered back. My fingers slid along her neatly trimmed mound, penetrating the compact lips of her vagina. My cock strained against the crack of her ass where it rested.

“Oh God, that feels so good…” she moaned, her body writhing slightly under my touch.

She sighed as I slipped a second finger into her, my thumb gently circling her exposed clit.

“Every year, just before Valentine’s Day, I get all dolled up, go to a salon, and get the works done. Massage, hair and make-up.”

With the mention of Mr. Price, my fingers froze, then slithered out of her depths.

“You still miss him?”

I was painfully aware of my nudity, and her nudity against me.

She twisted her body around, splashing water and rose petals out of the tub as she did so, and brought her face inches from mine.

“Danny, oh Danny…” Her hands were soft and soapy on my cheek. “I don’t want to cheapen a single thing that’s happened tonight. You don’t… you can’t know what it’s meant to me.” She shook her head. “I’m a different woman than the one who sat down in Via 19. I can’t explain it. Yes, I still miss him. That will probably never change. But…” Her left hand found my erection beneath the water, squeezed it. “I think that you’ve shown me that I need to move on. Christ, it’s been over five years!”

I just sat there, staring into her deep brown eyes as she slowly pumped my cock with her hands. I could see her sincerity, her acceptance. I could see a wealth of intelligence in those sharp eyes. And I could also see passion, smoldering around the edges.

Our lips clashed together, tongues grinding and swirling in the dark. My fingers found her manicured cunt, easily sliding two fingers in. She bit my lower lip as a groan escaped her throat, and her fingers became surer on my penis, a firm and knowing ring of jerking pleasure.

“Get up, get up on the edge of the tub,” she said.

I did as I was told, my erection waving proudly in the cooler air. She straddled me before it grew too cold, legs on either side of my sitting body, her breasts pressing hard against my chest. I entered her much easier this time, her pussy having grown accustomed to my girth.

She clung to me, hands around my neck, and I clutched her back to me as we began to rock back and forth, slowly fucking one another. She gasped, her feet finding purchase so she could pull away with each rock back, and push back in with each rock forward.

“Oh, Danny… I’m close!”

I was, too. That blowjob tease I’d received put me on edge.

She crushed my head into her chest, burying my face between her firm swells as she came hard, pounding violently down on my cock. That was it for me. I groaned loudly as I spilled myself into her for the second time in a half hour. Oh God, this woman was going to be the death of me.

Our sweat soaked bodies slithered back into the warm water and she pulled free of my softening member. The water washed the remnants of our combined love. As I held her there, something occurred to me.

“Aren’t you worried about pregnancy?”

She turned and kissed me softly on the lips.

“I’m on the pill. Have been for years. It regulates my cycle. But thanks for your concern. That’s so sweet.”

After we got out of the tub and dried each other off, she led me naked into the bedroom. God, I still couldn’t get over that I was actually here, with this incredible woman. I took charge now, gathering her willowy frame in my arms and kissing her hard before guiding her to the bed. She lay back, supporting her head on the pillows as I crawled between her parted thighs. She smiled at me, both of us knowing where I was headed. I had been aching to taste her beautiful pussy from the moment I laid eyes on it.

Her musky, womanly scent mingled with lilac soap and flowery bath oils. Her nether lips were tinged red and slightly open, like a just-blooming flower. Hands on either leg, I took my first, long lap at Mrs. Morgan Price’s pussy. It was even softer than I had imagined a woman’s skin could be: the wet petals of a rose.

“Ohhhh…” I heard her moan as my tongue brushed across the sensual bud of her erect clit, finishing in the trimmed patch of brown curls.

My second run along her silky gash was lazier, a zigzagging path like a luxury car along a windy, mountain road. Shifting from one swollen lip to the other, I drummed across the inner lips as they blossomed further, emerging as her sex opened to me.

“Oh, Danny…”

My third pass was more deliberate, the flat of my tongue dragging across her moistness, soaking up her sweet musk. My fingers followed, two pushing into her as my tongue found her clit, and my lips closed around it. From what I remembered in my limited experience, I was careful to keep the pressure on her clit light, never constant, my lips and tongue making slurping sounds as I worked her closer and closer to release. Curling my fingers up towards the button of her g-spot, I stroked into her harder, faster, as my tongue whipped back and forth with ever increasing urgency.

She was warm against my fingers. Wet. Tight. Her clit was hard. Her stomach muscles rippled. She bucked her hips up into my mouth. I sucked harder.

“Ah!”

She was close. On the edge. Her juice flowing fast against my fingers, into my lips.

“There! Yes, Danny. Therethere!”

She screamed, my mouth flooding with her heat as her tight butt rose up off the covers. Her lean legs wrapped around my head, smothering me. I drowned in her flesh. I was hard again.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” she kept whispering over and over as her body lay there, limp, a sheen of sweat turning her skin to warm satin. I crawled up beside her, wiping my face on the pillow before kissing her. She must have tasted the remains of herself on my tongue, my teeth, but if she did, she only kissed me harder. The kiss breathed life back into her buzzing body.

“Your turn, big boy.” She pushed me onto my back and crawled down between my legs. “And this time, I won’t stop until I swallow every last drop of your cum.”

Those words coming from this woman… these large eyes glittering mischievously back up at me… It was all too much like my dream that morning.

She worked my cock with her mouth, warm and wet. Her tongue swirled miracles along the underside of my shaft. Soft fingers traced circles between my legs. Her soft hair brushed my thighs. I was close. I could feel my release boiling.

Only this time, it was real. Only this time, it wouldn’t end there.

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Stories

Her Vampire Costume

/

I didn’t want to be at this party until I saw her. The young woman stood on the outskirts of someone else’s conversation, her long black cloak covering everything but her long, blonde hair and her small hands, clutching a red Solo cup like a goblet of wine.

I didn’t like Halloween parties. I felt foolish in my kilt and loose linen shirt, but my friend Rick was anxious to arrive at the party with a buddy and practically thrust the Scotsman costume into my hands.

Seeming to sense my eyes on her, the blonde looked up at me and my heart nearly stopped. Her pale blonde hair fell in styled locks around the bronzed contours of her face and glossy lips, her cute nose and groomed eyebrows adding to her radiant beauty. I had seen good looking women before. I even had the opportunity to be with some women before. This woman was good looking, but those eyes were otherworldly.

Large and pale blue, rimmed with long black lashes, they regarded me with coy amusement. They seemed to stroke my mind, flirting their way into my deepest and most lurid thoughts. And when they found something they liked, and I swear I saw a giggle in her irises.

She crossed the room as if she wasn’t walking, but gliding, each blink of my eyes bringing her a few steps closer. One moment she was next to the pirate and the cave woman; the next she was standing right in front of me, her head tilted back, her hip cocked to one side under that soft, black cloak. I must have been more drunk than I realized.

“I saw you staring across the room,” she said. Her voice was friendly, yet dripped confidence. She cocked her head to one side, her pale pupils regarding me from the corners of her eyes. “See something you like?”

Normally, I would have a smooth answer for this—a silly one-liner meant to break the tension that I suddenly realized was crackling between us. One-liners wouldn’t work on this girl. I knew that immediately. I chose to be straight-forward. “Yes. I did.”

She smiled at me, her expression appreciative. Her teeth were bright white, small and even but for two elongated canines. Fangs. Her tongue toyed with the sharp point of one, her smile suddenly taking on a much more feral look.

Halloween. Right, I almost forgot. A vampire.

“Let me guess,” she said, “you came here with your friends, but your only real intention was to find some hapless girl to take home and suck your cock.”

I balked at her statement and she laughed. It was a beautiful thing, not cruel, but certainly not innocent either. The scary thing about her statement was that she had pinpointed my exact thoughts, right down to the image of her on her knees between my legs. I felt exposed, laid out bare before those large, shining eyes.

The blonde stepped closer, her cloak parting. I received a glimpse of her body for the first time this evening—taut curves sheathed in a tight black dress—before she was standing too close, her fingers closing around my linen shirt to pull me down to her. Her perfume assaulted me, drowned me. I felt myself go rigid. “But Chris,” she said, whispering into my ear, her breath hot along my neck, “aren’t you afraid I’ll bite?”

I felt the sharp points of her fangs scrap along my exposed neck. For a moment, I thought they’d pierce flesh, only to be replaced by soft lips. I sighed, but something about all this didn’t feel right.

“How did you know my name?” I struggled to get the words out as that warm mouth clouded up my mind.

She pulled away, once again regarding me with one of those coy, sideward glances. “You’re sharper than I would have thought, Chris.” Her fingers now dancing along the hard ridges of my pecs below my Scotsman’s shirt. “Maybe you will get lucky, after all.”

Her laugh seemed to bounce off the back of my head and reverberate warmly within my brain. She turned, her cloak whipping around her lean, tanned legs. I blinked. She was gone.

I spent the next hour looking for the petite blonde to no avail. Not only did I not find her, but I didn’t even find someone who knew her, or even remembered her being here. As I walked amidst the costumed revelers, I couldn’t help imagining those playful blue eyes watching me from the shadows, laughing as her elaborate prank unfolded.

After that, the beer and my own horniness took over. I found myself chatting with a leggy brunette—chatting on autopilot. She was as thick as she was beautiful and for all her bashful resistance, I knew I could have her with a minimal amount of effort. Normally, that wouldn’t have been so bad. Brains or no brains, her skin was still soft, her breasts still plump and firm, her wetness just as inviting as the next. Yet the ghost of that small blonde’s eyes followed me even then.

“I need to go grab something from my car. Want to walk with me?” I asked the brunette. Yes, it was a lame line. Yes, I should be ashamed of myself. Hell, I didn’t even know this girl’s name. I said the words anyway.

She giggled. “You scared of the dark?” she asked me, one hand squeezing my arm suggestively. “Want me to take care of you?”

“I’d like that very much.” I took her by the hand and led her out into the street.

I’d parked a few suburban blocks down and we walked hurriedly through pools of lamplight. The buxom girl on my arm’s devil costume was nothing more than a lacy red teddy, a short cap, and little horns sticking out of her thick curls. She definitely was sexy, there was no doubt about that, but still…

“Is this your car?” she asked once we’d stopped in front of my beamer.

I answered her by chirping the alarm off.

“Hm, it’ll do.” She shrugged before shoving me against the car and plastering her body against mine. Her tongue invaded my mouth before I had a chance to close my eyes.

“What’s a Scotsman got under his kilt?” Those doe-like eyes were consumed with baser lust. Her hand had already dropped to find out the answer.

“Ooo… I think I like Scotsmen.”

She dropped to her knees right there, our bodies bathed in the yellow glow of a streetlight. I leaned up against my car and watched as this woman hiked my kilt up around my waist and lowered her mouth onto my cock. Despite thinking about the blonde all night—or maybe for it—I had no problem growing rigid as the brunette worked her lips and tongue over me like warm butter.

She knew precisely what it was going to take to get me off. Her technique was flawless and well-practiced, down to the corkscrewing motion of her mouth and the tightness of her pumping fingers. I would have blown happily into her mouth after only a few minutes were it not for… her…

“Stop,” came a woman’s voice, high yet commanding. The brunette’s bobbing head froze between my legs and despite my tightening balls, I resisted the urge to unleash myself.

I looked up, tearing my eyes away from the she-devil’s concave cheeks, to see the blonde from the party approaching. For a second, I thought her eyes were glowing in the darkness. I blinked. I must have imagined it.

“Looks like you found your hapless girl.” She smiled at me teasingly. “Is she everything you hoped she would be?”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t open my mouth. I couldn’t move.

She looked down at the girl, whose mouth still clung to my member. “Leave us,” she commanded. Without a second thought, the brunette stood and made her hurried way back to the lights of the party. My kilt fell back around my knees, preserving my modesty as the blonde approached.

“You must be so close…” she whispered. Her perfume once again assaulted my senses. She didn’t stop approaching until she had me pinned against the car, her hand caressing my throat where her teeth had grazed earlier in the night. My erection rubbed against her warm belly, feeling the muscles below. “I’m sorry I interrupted you at the moment of your… glory…” She laughed. “If you’re a good boy, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She took my hand and pulled me toward the darkened home that I had parked in front of. I managed to speak at last. We were half-way up the walk before I managd to speak. “Where are we going?”

“Inside.”

“Is this your home?”

“No. Is it yours?” Her vampire fangs flashed in the moonlight as she laughed.

“Won’t we… you know… get in trouble?”

“You think they’re home?” she asked, looking around. The grass wasn’t cut, the driveway was empty, and the lights were off. “Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

I’m not sure how she opened the front door, but the next thing I knew, she was pulling me upstairs in an empty house. My heart was pounding rapidly and every time headlights flickered through the drapes, my breath caught. We shouldn’t be doing this, I wanted to scream, but could do nothing but follow the diminutive woman into a stranger’s bedroom.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she asked once we were up there. The blonde was poking around the darkened room, checking out the bathroom, the closets. Pale moonlight filtered turned the the white linen sheets and white painted furniture into ghosts. I couldn’t do anything but sit heavily on the bed, the adrenaline deafening.

“I don’t even know your name…”

“Really?” Her back was to me and she was looking over one shoulder. She reached up to her neck, undid a hidden clasp, and let the velvety cloak pool around her ankles.

I’d caught glimpses of her small body earlier, but nothing had prepared me for this moment. Her black dress was dangerously short and skintight. It was strapless, her long blonde tresses cascading around her bare shoulders. The dress ended just below the inverted heart of her little butt, plump enough to add a feminine roll to her hips. Her legs appeared longer than they probably were, due mainly to the high platform heels she wore, one foot demurely in front of the other.

I found myself caught once again in those large eyes, unable to escape. This time, I thought I heard her whisper suggestive things directly into my soul. I bet you want to bend me over and fuck me like a wild animal. Ready to get your dick wet? My heart race faster. Being haunted never felt better.

She pivoted on a heel and approached me like a predator, one stride directly in front of the other, hips swaying left and right. “Strip for me, please.”

I had never torn my clothing off faster. I was proud of my body, spending more time in the gym than anyone else I know, but still, my lack of modesty shocked me. Here I was, completely naked, my hard-on springing alive before me, when this blonde still wore everything but her cloak.

“This usually not how it goes for you?” she asked. Her fingers stroked across my broad shoulders and down my chest. When her fingers found my seven inches, swollen and ready for her, she smiled. “Very nice.

She bent forward, affording me a view of her perfectly proportioned breasts, and kissed the head of my erection. I shuddered. Her lips seared. Aren’t vampires supposed to be cold to the touch?

“You must be sooo close.” She giggled once again. Leaning into me, her hand braced on my bare shoulder, the blonde kissed me for the first time that evening, her slippery tongue unrolling slowly past my pliant lips. It was just as coy and alluring as her eyes: coaxing, suggesting, teasing. I found myself moaning into her mouth on just a kiss. When she pulled away, I groaned, wanting more.

She silenced me with two fingers to my lips. “There will be more of that, don’t worry, Chris, but first, you need to do something for me.”

With a little bit more pressure from those two fingers, she pushed me onto my back. Straddling my body, she crawled across me. For a second, I thought she was going to lower herself on my bobbing member, but she climbed higher. Across my stomach, across my torso, the whole time her silky thighs grazing my bare skin.

I looked down and watched her body approach, knowing at last what she had in mind. My hands found her hips, feeling the heat of her skin below, slipping to the hem of her short dress.

“You’ve got the idea.” Her words flaunting down to me as I pulled her dress up. The skin of her thighs was supernaturally smooth.

Her pussy was as flawless as the rest of her body, the parted cleft devoid of a single curl of hair. Her lips were unsurprisingly compact. It was the last thing I thought before being smothered between her straddling thighs.

I wanted to treat her like she’d treated me all evening. I wanted to tease. To leave her on the brink. I let my tongue trail lazily up along her slit, tasting the tangy sweetness. I felt her shudder as I teased her clit, only to draw away before she got too close. The smooth lips of her labia grew plump under my tongue, pushing it deeper and deeper with each lap.

Her fingers raked through my hair, encouraging me further, and I thought I heard her groans through the muffling walls of her tight thighs. Her fingernails bit into my scalp as I flicked at her clit, concentrating my efforts somewhere between pleasing her and breathing.

My own hands cupped her bare buttocks, squeezing the cheeks, drawing her harder against my mouth and lips.

I heard her groan, her fingers tightening in my hair. She squeezed with her thighs. Oxygen was cut off. I should have panicked. I should have thrown the smaller girl off me. Instead, I licked her with the desperation of a cornered animal, sucking her pussy lips into my mouth one at a time, jamming my tongue deep into her when that was done, rubbing my face and cheeks across her bare labia.

Her thighs tightened. I was seeing stars. My nose was overwhelmed with her musky perfume. I felt my consciousness slipping away and still I fucked her with my mouth. Still I drove her higher and higher, harder and harder.

My eyes were open, yet the room had receded to tiny pinpricks of light. Someone was screaming God’s name. Someone was gasping for breath. Someone was cumming.

I drifted out of consciousness then for who knows how long. In the darkness, I felt hands caress my body. Soft hands like fine velvet. Hot kisses. Wet licks and gentle sucks. Circling round and round my body, across my face, my lips, my chest. Circling closer and closer to what?

Teeth. Teeth on my neck. Sharp teeth. I tried to fight off the darkness, my brain fumbling to regain control. Things were still dreamy. Something was holding my cock. Something warm. Softness made fleshy contact with the tip. Soft and wet. My head passed up and down the smooth warmth. Up and down. Closer and closer. A needle being threaded.

I gasped. The head of my cock slipped into what was unmistakably a woman. It lingered there, her grip supple yet taut, as the sharp points returned to my throat. The blonde teased me with shallow penetration. I wanted to scream out. I wanted to thrust up, but couldn’t find the strength.

My mind flashed as she dropped her weight down on me, those warm walls rushing along my member. Our thighs slapped wetly and then… Pain? Teeth? Teeth sinking deep into my exposed neck, my jugular. My breath caught, eyes flaring open.

The blonde was there, poised above me, staring down at me with those large blue eyes. They were smoldering with passion, glowing in the soft moonlight. I half expected to see her chin and neck drenched in radiant red. I was surprised when it wasn’t.

“Oh God!” I shouted as she grinded her pelvis hard against mine, her lips curling back in a feral smile. Her fingernails dug into the curls of my chest hair. I grinded my teeth, staring up into her eyes. “OH FUCK!”

The blonde shut her eyes at last, her body hunched over me, her mouth open as she gasped and groaned for air. Her hips rose and fell, each thrust drawing the tight ring of her pussy agonizingly along my girth. Gripping her hips, I pounded back up into her, returning each downward plunge with my own upward thrust. Each reunion was punctuated by our slapping skin and the straddling woman’s piercing gasp.

I couldn’t take much more of it. I’d been teased too much.

I came, exploding into the blonde’s tight cunt. I felt the heat of my seed wash over my shaft, filling her snug cavity. My head thrashed left and right as my cock pulsed within her. The aftershocks lasted minutes that felt like hours. I could feel my sweat soak the bedspread below me.

When I opened my eyes at last, it was into the eyes of the blonde. I still didn’t know her name.

“Hollie,” she said, answering my thoughts. She stroked my sweaty brow, smiling down warmly at me. She was naked. She winked at me, regarding me in that coy, head-cocked way of hers.

Her breasts sat high on her chest, round and—as I quickly found—a perfect handful. She moaned as my thumbs passed over her puffy, light brown nipples. She gave my cock a playful squeeze with her pussy. I was still hard!

Her stomach was flat, her belly piercing flashing out in the moonlight. Sure enough, my cock remained rigid, Hollie’s clean-shaven lips stretched tightly around its girth. The milky white evidence of our most recent coupling trickled down her thighs and across my balls. I felt myself twitch at the sight.

The blonde cocked her head to one side, regarding me with surprise for a change. “I’m impressed,” she said in that sweet voice of hers, breathing in heavily through her nose. “Impress me a little more.”

I was no stranger at pleasing women. I didn’t back down now.

I sat up into Hollie’s compact body, drawing her lips to mine with a hand at the nape of her neck. Where her kiss was soft and sensual before, it was animalistic now. Our gums grinded against one another; her teeth nipped playfully at mine.

I pushed the blonde back further, rolling with her, my hardness still buried. She ended with her head hanging off the bed, her long, corn-silk hair cascading to the carpeted floor.

“You’ve got me where you want me, big boy,” she said breathily. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me until I scream, then fuck me even ha—AHH!”

I didn’t wait for her to finish. I thrust hard against her, my cock flashing through her pussy, striking her cervix. She cried out, letting her head hang off the bed as I ripped into her. I rested my hands on either side of her lithe frame, my eyes crawling lewdly along her naked torso. Her golden skin glowed satin in the moonlight, covered as it was in a thin sheen of sweat. Her breasts shook with the slapping of our bodies. I draped myself across her, smothering her, feeling those hard nipples against my own sweaty chest.

I brought my lips to her exposed neck and tasted the salt of her perspiration. I could feel each ragged breath she took. I could feel the pulse of her life blood. For an instant, I was nearly overcome with the urge to bite, to pierce flesh, to draw blood.

The moment passed. I was myself again.

I reached down between our writhing bodies, sliding my fingers across her slippery-smooth mound. Sweat and pussy juice and cum helped my fingers glide along the denuded skin. I found the little bud of her excitement sitting atop her taut folds and strummed it mercilessly as my thick cock dug into her just centimeters away.

She gasped sharply, threw her head back, and came. Her back arched below me. Her pussy rippled around my still-thrusting cock. She groaned, her nails rending claw marks across my back. Pain seared across my vision. I didn’t care.

“Oh God, deeper! Fuck Chris, fuck me deeper!” Her speech fought its way through her clenched teeth.

I pulled her long tanned legs up and open until they were hooked over my shoulders, folding her small body in half. Hands on either side of her narrow shoulders, I stared down at her reclined head, rocking my hips ruthlessly. I could feel my balls slap the damp juncture between her thighs with each thrust. I could feel my pelvis grow sore with each violent impact.

“AH!” she gasped again and again.The bed rocked. The head board slammed loudly against the wall. Bang! Bang! Bang! “UH! UH! UH!” Hollie raked her fingers through her sex-dampened locks as her body sizzled with her extended orgasm.

She bit down on her lip, her vampire fangs glinting in the dim light of the room. How many times could she come? How much could her body take?

“Oh fuck, again!” she screamed aloud, shattering my eardrums. Ankles hooked behind my head, she drew my pistoning body into her. Her lips tore into mine. Gnashing. Searing. Unforgiving. Her tongue plunged down my throat until I could hardly breath, once again fighting to keep conscious.

At last, her body relaxed, her head hanging limply off the side of the bed. “Oh my God!” she said, her eyes still closed, basking in the afterglow. I said nothing, resting gently across her tight body. My arms burned from the strain of holding her up. My hips were sore. “Oh my God!” she repeated. “You’re still hard!”

Wordlessly, she pushed me off of her, my cock pulling free of her with a collective shudder. She leaned me back against the headboard and snuggling down between my legs, grasping my cum-slick member.

Her hand looked tiny wrapped around me, the fingers barely closing as they pumped slowly, up and down. Smiling at me with those mischievous blue eyes, she lowered her lips.

“Your teeth!” I cried out as she poised her glossy lips at the head of my member.

Hollie looked up at me, smiled, and asked, “What teeth?” Her pearly white teeth were even, her fangs gone. When did she do that?

I didn’t ask. I didn’t care. Not after I felt my dick slip into her warm little mouth.

She stroked me with her fingers as her lips and tongue concentrated on manipulating the mushroom tip, swirling circles of pleasure with each pass. She kept her eyes on me the whole time, measuring my passion, sensing when to change tactics.

I groaned as she slipped more of my cock into her mouth, her lips and fingers making tight passes up and down the engorged flesh. “Oh godddd…” I groaned deeply.

She pulled away with a loud slurp. “This is to thank you for what you just did. This is your reward.”

Nothing else was spoken. I felt myself pass quickly through her small mouth and strike the back of her throat, her tongue working magic along the sensitive underside. Slowly, ever so slowly, she worked me deeper and deeper into her throat, occasionally slurping off me to catch her breath, until her nose was buried in the curls of my pubic hair.

I let my eyes wander across her petite body as the blonde throated me, marveling at the heart-shaped perfection of her ass. If I had any strength left in me, I wanted to take her from behind, on all fours, like the animals that we were. The thought of that, of her hips pounding back into me, of her face buried in the pillow as she screamed in ecstasy, was enough.

She sensed my imminent climax and slipped my cock from her throat, holding just the head within her mouth. Her tongue whipped around the crown once before I exploded, my vision soda-pop white.

I came harder than I did in her pussy just minutes—hours, days—ago. My cock pulsed, Hollie swallowed. I felt my energy drain from me, leaving my body limp and exhausted.

I sat there against the headboard of some stranger’s bed on the cusp of consciousness. Through the hazy fog of my post-orgasmic bliss, I watched the blonde sit back on her heels and smile at me. A thin trail of milky white escaped the corner of her beautiful mouth, making its lazy way down along her chin. Her smile was feral. Her elongated fangs had returned.

“Thanks for the evening, Chris.” She wiped my cum from her lips and kissed me softly. I could barely respond. I was so tired. Her fingers touched my neck and pain throbbed beneath her fingers. “Don’t worry, it’ll heal. Just give it time.”

I blinked and she was off the bed, her naked body posing there at the doorframe for me. “Get some rest.”

I caught one last glimpse of her shadowy curves, her round breasts, and her clean-shaven sex.

“But not too much.” One last giggle. “Never know when the owners are going to return…”

I touched my neck, where the pain hadn’t gone away, and winced. That didn’t feel right, that ragged feeling. I pulled my fingers away. They shined red and wet in the moonlight.

When I looked back at her, she was dressed—at least in the black cloak. “You were yummy.”

One last blink and she was gone.