The Rougher Explicit Collection of Stories Box Set Compilation
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Created by Amira Bradford
Table of content:
The Filthiest Erotic Collection of 150 Sex Short Hot Stories
The First Meeting
I feel much the stalker watching you through the open door. Phones ring loudly and employees hustle a little quicker since you came out of your office. Your back is to me as you sign off on a package. The pen drops and I smile watching the view as you bend over to pick it up.
I take blow out a soft breath and walk in. You don't notice me as you scan the list of messages left for you. There's a soft touch on your arm and you look down into dark exotic eyes.
"Alley," you manage before your jaw hangs in disbelief. Not giving you a chance to recover, I step closer and slide my hand into yours. Without thought you pull me closer. You can feel the heat of my body and the scent of my perfume reassures your senses I am very real.
Your fingers tighten around mine and I feel my pulse quicken. My nipples tighten and a slight flush of pleasure curl inside of me. You don't want to let go, but realize the spectacle we're making and step back.
My cream silk of my blouse does little to hide my attraction. Your wrist turns up as your hand moves to touch me. You stop yourself and shake your head. You look away and curse under your breath. A look of concern fills my eyes.
"You're upset with me?" I ask. "I wanted to surprise you . . . I'm sorry. This was rather rash of me." I bite my lower lip, my gaze falls.
Hating the idea of a misunderstanding, you lift my chin with your finger and look into me. Open, unsure and vulnerable . . . needing some form of reassurance. My head tilts slightly and my lids fall as you feel my breath deepen and you become aware of my pulse close to your fingers. My tongue tastes my lips, waiting to know yours. A whispered growl escape as you lean forward, bringing your head closer to mine.
I pout as you barely graze my lips and kiss me on the cheek. "Not here," you whisper in my ear. Taking my hand in yours, you take me into your office and close the door behind us.
Once safely away from prying eyes, you lean back on your desk and stare at me. "I can't believe you're here, Alley. Would you mind if I hugged you?" you ask.
In answer, I take your hands in mine, kissing each palm before pulling them around me and settling them on my lower back. I kiss your neck, right above the collar of you shirt, flickering my tongue out to taste your flesh. I lean up on my toes and kiss your neck a little higher. "I've needed you so damn long . . . ."
You feel a hot little kiss on your ear and then the little line of flesh between your ear and face. My hands slide around your neck and my fingers find their way to your hair as I get closer to your lips.
You feel the tip of my tongue barely touch the corner of your mouth and then just the brushing of my soft lips against yours. My breath grows deeper and you can feel my excitement building.
I kiss you, willing your lips to respond to me. You could almost swear you feel me purring as you kiss me back. You try to fight back a goofy grin when you feel my back arch in your hands.
I shift my legs as a shiver of desire runs through my body. I try to press closer into you. I can't help myself and I start to undo your shirt. You feel a slight pang of conscience and step back. "What about your . . . ." you begin but I cover your lips with my finger and then my lips again.
"Let that be my sin." You don't want to stop me. You feel my fingers trembling as I undo your buttons, needing to touch your flesh. To know in reality, what I'd only been able to take in fantasy for all this time.
I pull your shirt loose from your pants and enjoy the feel of your skin. The shock of contact reminds you that your hands could be doing other things too.
I giggle as you pull my blouse apart, scattering buttons around the room. I don't care. You're not quite sure what's gotten into you but coherent thought quickly evading you as you vaguely recall employees outside. The sight of sumptuous breasts, spilling over white lace, pushes thoughts of the employees further away.
My hand slides down over your erection. Breaking our kiss, I glance down, to figure out how to get your pants undone. Letting them fall to the floor, I take your hands and guide them under my skirt into my panties. You waste little time sliding them down my legs.
It takes seconds to clear a large space on your desk. Turning me towards the desk, you push me onto it and part my thighs. Sliding between my legs, I feel your erection against my me and realize how wet I am. You slip down to your knees and bury your face in me.
My rich earthy scent and soft salty taste fill your mouth. All you can feel is the hot smooth flesh of my thighs and my essence before you. Your tongue finds my clit and coaxes it into an even more sensitive state. My fingers are in you hair, pulling, begging you . . . "oh god . . . please."
My taste, an aphrodisiac, you feel your cock swell even harder as you slip your tongue into me. Even that takes a little effort for the fit. Tight, sweet and very wet. Your dick begs to take your tongue's place.
It's all happening so quickly, but neither of us is able to slow down, let alone stop it. Unable to stop and unwilling. "I need you." is all you hear . How could you resist? You lift you head, your face covered with the evidence of my desire. I smile and reach down to wipe your cheek with my fingers, bringing them to my lips to taste.
You blink, waiting for this fantasy to disappear. But I remain there before you, straddle on your desk, your papers all over the floor, a button from my blouse resting by my hand. The bra has shifted and a dark nipple peaks out and my skirt is hunched up around my waist. My hair is loose and wavy around me, giving me even more of a wild look. All of these things are nothing compared to my eyes, dark and almost black in hunger.
My hand wrapping around your shaft shifts your attention. I pull you closer until the head of your dick is glistening with me. You replace my hand with yours and soon have my nails scratching across the top of your desk as you slide it up and down. Needing to feel flesh under my palms, I grasp your arms and dig my nails in, edging you on.
I cry out as you slip the head of your dick into me, your own groan mixing with my mine at the narrow fit. Unable to take any more of your own teasing, you kiss me and thrust deeply into me, swallowing my cry of pleasure. You have to pause, your balls begging to explode.
The sharp pain of my nails digging into your back helps bring you from the edge. "Please." You take one of my legs and pull it up a little to allow your self deeper and begin thrusting. My juices are all over your lap and the purrs and moans make it harder and harder to hold off.
I forget everything but the exquisite sensation of being filled with your cock and knowing I'd give anything to keep you from stopping. "Fuck me harder," You can almost feel me blush at the words, but the need for you is stronger.
My breath comes faster and faster and my movements become more frantic. You're aware of the claw marks on your back, but unable to feel the pain any more. You can feel your balls tightening and know you can't hold off much longer.
I get louder and louder, begging you to fuck me harder and faster until you feel me suddenly tighten around you and I cry out as the first waves of my orgasm hit me. You can't stop now and try to pull out.
My legs wrap around you. "Cum in me . . . ." You groan as you explode inside of me, the ripples of my orgasm milking you further. The pleasure hits you hard with the feeling of cumming inside of me . . . nothing between us.
As your energy all but vanishes, you lean forward and collapse on me, pushing us back onto t
he desk, your dick still within me. I purr softly and brush your damp hair back from you brow, kissing you.
I giggle and you feel my muscles tighten around you. "What a delightful way to meet you."
The End.
The Glass Table
I finished drying my hair with the towel, then wrapped it round my waist and stepped out of the bathroom into our bedroom. Standing before me, arms akimbo was my wife, Debra. She was dressed only in a black leather garter belt and black nylon stockings. The small auburn tuft of her pubic hair showed between the garter belt and her otherwise shaven pussy. "All clean?" she asked in an impatient tone.
Sensing her mood immediately; I answered, "Yes Mistress." My eyes darted round the room quickly, as I tryed to surmise what she had planned. On the bed were two sets of wide, black leather cuffs and a black collar with stainless D rings attached. These were not a surprise in the slightest, as she preferred using cuffs to rope or steel for my bondage. What did catch my attention was the coffee table, which stood in front of the fire place of our Mistress suite. (I had been taught most explicitly never to refer to it as a Master suite.) The top of the coffee table was covered with a thick towel, yet I could see that the towel covered several items set on the tabletop. Exactly what these items were, I could not guess.
"Take off the silly towel and turn around," ordered my wife; and I immediately obeyed. I removed the towel from round my waist and hung it on the towel rack in the bathroom and walked over to her. I turned my back and placed my wrists behind my back. Keeping my eyes straight ahead I felt Debra take my left wrist in her hand and methodically fasten a thick leather cuff round it. She worked unhurriedly, pulling the two straps tight then checking to make sure that circulation was not cut off. She took my right wrist and repeated the procedure, then clipped the two cuffs together with a harness clip. Now she took my upper arms and fastened leather cuffs to them, just above the elbows. I felt the compression of the leather on my flesh and knew what was coming next.
I rolled my shoulders a bit, trying to loosen them for I knew that I would not be moving them for some time to come. I quick swat on my ass with Debra's hand and the command, "Hold still!" brought that to a rapid end.
I felt her moving behind me, and knew that she was threading a strap through the D rings of the upper arm cuffs. Then I felt her pull hard on the strap; pulling my elbows closer together and throwing my shoulders backward. Stepping in front of me she slipped the collar round my neck and fastened a small brass padlock to the built-in hasp. She stepped away to inspect me and I felt her eyes crawl up my body. I stood erect, arms behind me, head up and looking straight ahead, as she had taught me to do.
"Hmmph," was all she said as she looked me up and down. Then she walked up to me and took my cock in her hand. "Already hard I see," she commented. "You like being bound and helpless don't you?"
"Yes Mistress," I replied truthfully; my cock growing even harder as she held it in the palm of her hand.
"I can tell," she said as she wrapped her fingers round my prick and gave it a loving squeeze. "But right now I don't want you hard. So make it go soft."
I looked at her with surprise. "Soft Mistress?" I queried.
"That's right, make it soft," she replied.
"But, but how can I with you doing that?" I stammered. Indeed her silk-soft palm was now languidly stroking up and down the length of my cock.
"Don't question my orders, just obey them," she growled. "Make it soft or I will find a way to make it soft; a way that you won't like."
I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but sex, anything but my wife, anything but the hand stroking my prick. Baseball scores, calculus integrals, the names of all of the state capitals; but it all came back to that hand sliding back and forth on the shaft of my cock; those fingers stroking over the head. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. She had planned it. She knew that she was placing me in an impossible position. I prayed silently for my erection to dissipate, but knew that my prayer would go unanswered.
"Very well," my Mistress intoned. "Since you are incapable of following simple orders, I will have to do it myself." She opened her grip and held my erection in the palm of her hand, and then with a sudden movement, her left hand lifted and slapped down hard on my engorged cock.
"ARRRGGGG," I cried as her fingers slapped down on my cock with a resounding SMACK. Twice more she lifted her hand and twice more the fingers struck the engorged flesh. The bright, hot, burning pain in my prick brought the results she had wanted. My cock deflated in an instant. I looked down to see it lying there in her palm, the skin reddened from the abuse, but the prick flaccid. I watched as she pulled back a corner of the towel which covered the coffee table, and she picked up a small black leather and steel contraption. I looked down to see what she held in her hands and my breath caught a bit at what she held. In her hand was a small wire cage, just 2 1/2 inches long and an inch in diameter. To it were attached two or three leather straps.. I recognized it for what it was, a cock cage. I understood now why she had wanted me soft. There was no way that my cock would fit in that cage when hard; and once caged there was no way for my cock to get hard.
She slid the metal cage over my now flaccid organ and pulled one of the straps round the base of my sac. She pulled it tight and snapped a brass padlock in place. The cage was now locked and even had I had my hands free there was no way for me to remove it. Then she wrapped a second strap tightly round the base of my cock and snapped that in place. Now no matter what she did to me that night, there was no way I was going do get fully hard, and certainly no way I was ever going to cum until she released my cock from its bondage.
"Lie down on the floor in front of the table, face up," ordered my Mistress. I walked over to the area between the table and the fireplace and awkwardly knelt on the rug. It was hard to get up and down with my arms so tightly bound behind my back but I managed to get down on both knees. I straightened one leg and then the other and sat down on my bottom, then brought my knees up to my chest and did a reverse crunch to each myself to a supine position. The position was difficult and a bit uncomfortable with my arms bound behind my back but do-able.
Debra walked over and looked down at me, then she went to the book shelf and took down a small dark carved wooden stand. The top of the stand was slightly concave and stood some 4 or 5 inches above the base. I knew what it was of course, an antique Japanese wooden pillow. Geisha were trained to use these stands as pillows to keep there elaborate hairdos from touching the ground. We had acquired it as an object d'art after seeing "Memoirs of a Geisha" but it had never figured into our play. Lifting my head with her hands she slid the pillow under my neck. The effect was to lift my head several inches higher, but to keep my head horizontal. "There," she said, "That should do it". I had no idea what her intentions were or why she wanted my head in such a position but apparently she had her reasons.
Next, Debra walked over to the table and removed the towel from the top. I looked over to the table from my position on the floor and could make out some of the paraphernalia through the thick glass top of the table. One object there took away my breath. Lying on the table among the leather straps, gags and clips was a long steel rod, some 3 ft in length, topped with a lifelike dark brown cock vibe. More than once I had stood on the "Impaler" legs fastened into steel cuffs with that 8" long dong buried in my asshole. How well did I know the feeling of standing helpless, squirming, trying not to cum without permission as the faux cock wiggled and vibrated inside me; my wife watching and laughing at my struggles.
Kicking my legs apart slightly my wife picked up the rod with deliberate slowness and lay it between my legs. She slid it upward until the tip touched my sphincter and then pressed insistently. I willed my rosebud to relax; knowing that resisting the penetration would only make things worse. With slow steady pressure she slid the vast dong into my depths until I was completely filled. I took a few deep breaths to adjust to the feeling of having my rectum filled and then tried to
relax.
Taking two leather straps from the table top, Mistress bound my legs together just above the knees and at the ankles, entrapping the rod of the impaler between my legs and thus guaranteeing that I could not straighten my legs. "Just a few more touches my pet, then we begin in earnest." I wondered what more she could do to me. My arms and legs were completely immobile, my body straight, my cock caged to prevent me getting an effective hard on and my ass filled with a huge dong. The answer wasn't long in coming however. My ever-inventive Mistress had a few more tricks up her sleeve before "beginning in earnest."
First she filled my remaining orifice with a large cock gag. I nearly gagged as she slid the thick fake cock into my mouth and strapped it in place. Now all I could do was mumble round the gag. I knew this gag and dreaded it. It was more than a gag. Like the vibrator of the impaler, the damn thing was motorized. It twisted and turned slowly when activated. Growing first longer and then shorter by about and inch as some internal, un-stoppable mechanism whirled inside it. I knew that I was in for a long night of both mouth and asshole getting fucked mechanically I watched as she reached down and pinched my nipples with her fingers and then places a vibrating clamp onto each nipple. I felt the clamps bite into the flesh of my nipples and closed my eyes against the familiar pain. My body tingled with anticipation as finally she slipped a vibrating cock ring round the base of my cock.
Taking a moment to admire her handiwork Mistress looked down on me. Then she did something very surprising. She slid the coffee table over to cover me; this I had never expected. Now I understood the reason for the pillow. My face was now just an inch from the bottom of the thick glass tabletop. It was as if I was part of the table. Like those coffee tables you see that have glass tops and sides with objects displayed inside them. I had seen them in catalogs, dried plants and stuffed pheasants. Only I was the display; bound and helpless, unable to move. As still as those pheasants and certainly stuffed. I was to be on display in a glass case as the diabolical vibrations and gyrations in mouth and ass, on bound cock and nipples kept me excited but immobile. I looked at Mistress with pleading eyes. And she looked down at me. "You understand don't you?" she asked. I nodded slowly by way of reply. "I have been plotting this for a while; waiting for the right time to do this. Do you know what I have planned now?" I shook my head back and forth as I wondered what she meant by that question.
The Rougher Explicit Collection of Stories Box Set Compilation Page 1