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The Rougher Explicit Collection of Stories Box Set Compilation

Page 72

by Amira Bradford


  The scene descended into an orgiastic display of debauchery. Charlotte panted and grunted as Julian fucked into her with energetic strokes. Julian himself moaned as he reached under Charlotte's body and cupped the heavy, swinging tits in his palms. He rolled the thick, rubbery teats between his fingers and continued to stab Charlotte's swollen vulva as he nibbled and bit her exposed neck.

  Vanessa mauled at her own breasts as she punished Peter for his intransigence. How dare he kiss that slut! She grabbed her skin and pulled at her nipples until the tender flesh of her tits was red and swollen. She cursed her brother for his weakness while she pounded relentlessly into Peter's arse. Most of all, Vanessa wanted to punish the voluptuous blonde, who even now, was moaning through the minor tremors of the beginning of her climax.

  Peter was pulling at his enormous cock as Vanessa buggered him. He loved the feeling of the hard yet pliable dildo as it filled his rectum so solidly. He adored the sensations from his arse and his cock as he tugged at it. He stared into Charlotte's eyes and he felt the surge of his climax begin. He turned and pushed Vanessa away from himself. The strap-on slid from his anus and hung between Vanessa's legs -- an obscene parody. He stood quickly and aimed his cock at Charlotte's face.

  The blonde recognised his intent immediately. She smirked and opened her mouth to speak. "You filthy bastard—" she began, but got no further as the first spray of Peter's semen splashed across her face. More of the stuff spattered onto the leather between her elbows, while further spurts landed in her hair, on her shoulder, and against her swinging breasts.

  Julian came next. He grunted and clawed at Charlotte's generous hips as his seed pumped into the blonde's body. The tickling, pulses of Julian's spunk inside her, coupled with the hot splashes of Peter's goo, fired Charlotte's orgasm. She added her cries and groans of delight to the cacophony of outpoured lust as she jerked and twitched in the rapture of her release.

  Eventually the spent trio looked at Vanessa. The woman's eyes sparked venom as she stared back at them.

  Finally, Charlotte spoke: "You look so delicious like that, Vanessa." She gestured towards her employee with a sweep of her hand. Vanessa glared back at her, with her blouse hanging open, her skirt still high on her hips, and her dangerous looking shoes still on her feet. "You look good enough to eat."

  Vanessa's look softened and a sly smile crossed her face. "Do I?" she murmured. She undid the straps that held the dildo against her body. "Come and eat me then." She walked to the chair that Charlotte had originally been bound to, and hooked her legs over the arms just as the blonde had done earlier.

  Charlotte smirked and went to Vanessa. They kissed and Vanessa licked a dollop of Peter's spunk from Charlotte's breasts. The mature blonde knelt between Vanessa's thighs; she stared at the girl intently and then, after a lascivious wink, bent to the task.

  "Lick her, Peter," Vanessa groaned as Charlotte tongued her excited clitoris and pushed two fingers inside her opening. "Suck my brother's cum out of her."

  The Polish man grinned. He stroked his cock and moved behind Charlotte. She in turn, while still keeping up her oral attention on Vanessa's thick-lipped vulva, pushed her derriere as high as she could manage.

  Peter held Charlotte's labia apart and was rewarded by the sight of a viscous trickle of semen. The goo dribbled from Charlotte's hole and ran over her clitoris before a thick drop of the stuff fell to the carpet.

  With a moan, Peter forced his face against the sticky mess and pushed his tongue deep into the blonde.

  Charlotte groaned and turned her head to face the man behind her. "Kiss me," she sighed. "I want to taste it too." Peter leaned across the blonde's back and kissed her. Their tongues slid and danced, with Julian's cum acting as gooey lubrication. Peter broke away and moved back to Charlotte's oozing sex while Charlotte herself returned her attention to Vanessa's need.

  Poor Julian, forgotten and excluded, merely stood by and stared. He'd been sharing the apartment with Vanessa for a few weeks, ever since his marriage break-up had sent him running back to London, he'd always known his sister possessed a kinky streak, but the scene in front of him now ...

  Vanessa, through heavy, lust-laden eyes, looked up at him. She smiled at her brother, and then a laugh burst from her throat. "Not as I planned, Julian," she grinned. "But the bitch is sucking my cunt ..." Vanessa moaned and ran her fingers through the disarray of Charlotte's hair. Her hips lifted in a series of spasmodic jerks and her head lolled backwards. "I'm ... It's ... Just there, curl your fingers inside me just—" Vanessa groaned loudly and surrendered to the sensations elicited through Charlotte's fingers probing at the spongy walls inside her body. She gave a bestial grunt and held the blonde's mouth tight against her body. She mushed her dripping sex against Charlotte's face and gave voice to her climax.

  Peter watched Vanessa orgasm powerfully and then -- with his tumescence renewed -- eased his thick cock into Charlotte.

  Charlotte gasped when she felt the brute invading her body again. Peter's intrusion caused Julian's deposit of goo to squelch around the root of his cock. The ooze ran in a quick trickle over his hanging balls and dripped to the carpet between his knees.

  The scene ended after only a few moments of frenetic activity from Peter. He clawed at Charlotte's generous hips, grunted loudly, and pumped a second load into her body.

  The trio collapsed into varying poses of drained satisfaction while Julian continued to play the spectator role.

  Charlotte, exhausted, laid her head in Vanessa's lap. "Work is going to be ... interesting," she murmured.

  The woman's green eyes flashed in devilment and she stroked Charlotte's blonde hair gently.

  She could hardly wait for Monday.

  The End.

  Tlaloc

  I am looking out the sliding glass door of my bedroom, lying beneath my heavy blankets. I snuggle closer into their warm embrace. The days have been growing colder a little more each night, but tonight there is a promise of rain. I have been hearing the whisper of your voice rumbling in the distance for some time now. I close my eyes to focus on your ethereal mumbling. I wonder if you have heard my lonely prayers calling to you. The coming storm tells me you have and I wait in my bubble of security in anticipation.

  The sun is still setting in the west when the darkness of the storm begins to chase the last rays of dusk away. The hues of the sunset grow deep in shade as they meet the gray of the cumulonimbus clouds. A small crackle sounds off closer than before and the light illuminates the depths of darkness. Then a soft pelting sound begins to tap on my windows as the burdened sky begins releasing a gentle spray of rain. I close my eyes and imagine you tapping on my window the way you used to do late at night when I was young.

  The memory of those nights sends a shiver of excitement down my back and I rise to a sitting position. I begin feeling myself falling into a trance as I follow the rivulets downward over and over again. Their drizzling lullaby calms my inhibitions and awakens my senses.

  At the thought of you, my love, my heart begins to beat faster, racing with the increasing sprinkle of rain on the other side of the glass. My breath quickens and I am suddenly drawn to the window like a moth entranced by the glow of a flame. I push my blankets away and release the heat of my comfort zone into the arctic room.

  As my bare feet touch the smooth tiled floor, a chilly sensation begins to slither up my legs. My skin recalls the caress of your finger tips from a deeper part of me. I can suddenly feel your phantom touch gliding up my calves and thighs again. I am caught by surprise at my desire for more and my lack of hesitation to slip out of my silky, black gown. As if by their own will, I feel my hands slide the straps off my shoulders to let the thin fabric fall down. I stand naked in the growing dark. I do not fear being seen by neighbors, for I live miles away from the nearest one.

  The frigid atmosphere of my room leaves me hypnotized. Goose bumps rise along my exposed flesh. I step out of the ring of my garment and leave behind the last shred of warmth. My ni
pples contract and harden in excitement. A deeper part of my being grows feverish and wet. My cheeks blush at the realization of my arousal. I feel a moment of panic, but then your voice beckons to me in the roll of the growing thunder, "Come to the window, my love."

  I become mesmerized by the steady shower once more and obey. I want nothing more than to feel you all over me again. The clouds have grown swollen and dark as the storm has continued moving towards me. Heavy and overburdened with rain, the sky fades into a shade of gray close to the color of night.

  I reach my hand out to the window of falling rain. A brilliant electrical spark breaks the blackened sky the moment my fingers make contact with the freezing pane. The shock jolts my body's full memory of you. I press myself on to the glass as hard as I can, desperate to be embraced by the ghost of you.

  As if in response, an explosion of sound shakes the foundations of my house. The rain roars as the cloudburst releases its torrent and beats down on the earth in a frantic rhythm. The vibrations drum and tremble across my responsive nerves. The thunder keeps rolling and the lightning continues to crack the sky over and over again. The blinding flashes play with my perceptions. I can see your silhouette outside in the strobe lights of the tempest.

  Possessed by my hunger for you, I unlock the sliding glass door and rip it open. I run into the downpour without fear of being struck by the electrical discharges ripping across the night. The icy drops of water slap against me, leaving me breathless and hypothermic. I stop moving and try to catch my breath as my body temperature drops. A small cloud of breath forms every time I exhale, but I remain rooted to the spot. Your water hands tickle my scalp as you stroke my hair. I sigh and inhale your rainy scent deeply to calm my troubled mind.

  After a few moments I begin to ignore the chill seeping into the marrow of my bones. My lips tremble as I lift my face to feel your kisses again. How I have missed the taste of you, my love. So pure and divine upon my tongue, I marvel at the rush of heat your liquid butterflies stir within me. They bounce and trickle down my visage unto my frame. I love how you chase my curves with your aquatic lips. I close my eyes and swear I can see your smile beaming down on me.

  "Please don't stop," I hear myself whimper to you.

  "Aci (never)." You rumble back in that ancient language an incarnate part of my soul has never forgotten.

  I know even then it is a sweet lie, but I have waited so long to worship you as I did before. I put the thought aside as you continue baptizing me with your elemental affection. My hair is soaked and dripping. I shiver in the violent flow of your ardor and shake at the touch of your frosty autumn breath.

  I lay down upon the wet carpet grass of my backyard. The saturated earth cushions and conforms to my body naturally. My eyes follow the bolts streaking across the sky, waltzing to sonic booms of the heated air around them. Bright veins of light form jagged patterns against your dark celestial skin. Your godly beauty has me enchanted; I reach my hand up and imagine I am caressing your face as we continue kissing.

  The rain bombards me with fat drops of near-freezing water. I close my eyes and feel your body upon me. The image of you is projected against the black screen of my closed lids. Your hands and lips continue caressing me in frenzy. I spread my legs so you can explore my heated depths. My breath comes out quick and shallow as a fever begins to warm me. It is you, I know, chasing away the cold that has entombed my broken heart. I kiss you urgently, desperate to feel you filling me up completely.

  My insides begin to pull more and more with each drop that beats and slides against my slit. I imagine you kneeling over me, preparing to penetrate my eager well. My insides throb in hunger as my mind remembers the sensation of you entering me deeply. My pussy pulsates to the beat of your push and pull. My hips thrust into you and we begin to build a slow steady rhythm.

  My hands grasp the wet grass and I feel my fingers running through your hair again. I continue kissing the rain. I grip your hair harder and pull to tell you to go faster. A gentle gust of wind blows against my neck. I know it's you, my lover, breathing against me. I arch my back in response to your pleasure. I am almost at the brink of my own.

  The first wave of my orgasm is beginning to tingle in my spine to the pace of your thunder roll. In unison we erupt and I cry out my ecstasy into the storm. Our voices mingle as our passions peak and break upon us. Again and again the pleasure waves crash and draw back, until all we can do is lay still in the aftermath. I wrap my hands around you and kiss you lightly on your neck. You mumble something to me as we bask in the afterglow. The rain has become nothing more than a light spray again. Your voice is fading into the silence.

  "Niauh (I am going)."

  "Goodbye, my love," I whisper back to you.

  I knew this would happen. I know you don't want this to end anymore than I do. The sorrow of our parting stings my nose and chokes my throat. I close my eyes to hang on to your image as long as I can, but I can feel your presence drifting back into my memory. I curl up into a ball, and I cry my misery into the damp earth. How I wish it could rain forever, so you would never have to leave, my God of Rain...

  The End.

  Coffee Shop Encounter

  I used to not drink this much coffee. That all changed a couple weeks ago when I was in a rush and starving; I stopped in a coffee shop. The woman behind the counter took my breath away. She looked like a goth dominatrix sex goddess. I tried to keep my cool as I ordered a cookie. Since then I've been going to the coffee shop regularly, and I've tried to start up conversations with Estelle, that's her name, but she's always too busy. I have seen her talking to other customers, but I think they've been customers longer than me.

  Last night things changed a lot. I went into the coffee shop an hour and a half before closing. It was just Estelle and a super hot blonde girl working. Her nametag told me her name is Stacy. Estelle was professional, but by no means extra friendly as she made my drink. Part of me wanted to ask her what she was doing after work, but I chickened out. I got my drink, sat in one of the comfortable chairs, and started reading my book.

  Before I knew it, I was the only customer left in the whole place. Stacy started sweeping, and wiping off the tabletops. She really is very attractive. What a great ass. My mind started to wander. I imagined kissing that ass through her panties. Soon I imagined pressing my tongue to her cunt through her panties, as her wetness spreads. I imagined her grabbing my hair and pulling my head out of her crotch. "Take off my panties, and make me cum." I imagined pulling her panties down her thighs. What a cute little patch of blonde pubic hair.

  "HEY!" I was snapped out of my fantasy, "Hey! Stop staring, pervert."

  "Oh . . . um . . . sorry," I said as I embarrassingly buried my head back in my book.

  Stacy was soon talking with Estelle. I glanced up and could see Estelle staring at me. The next thing I know, I looked up and Estelle was towering over me.

  "We're closing."

  "Oh sure," I said as I fumbled to get my stuff together. "I guess I was really into my book."

  "Into other things too."

  I really had to go to the bathroom, and I didn't think I could wait until I got home. I quickly went into the men's room, and took a piss. As I was leaving the rest room, Estelle went in. I went to the front door of the coffee shop, but it was locked. Stacy came over to let me out.

  "Wait, don't let him out." Estelle said. "He fucking peed on the floor."

  "I'm so sorry. I was in a rush, but that's no excuse—"

  "No, it's no excuse at all. I just cleaned that before you went in there."

  "I'm sorry. What can I say? What can I do? I'll clean it." I said.

  "That's a great idea."

  I went back into the bathroom. Got some paper towels wet and started to clean the floor around the toilet. I could hear Estelle and Stacy talking a laughing outside the room. I did my best, and opened the door to leave.

  "Wait, I want to make sure you did a good job. I'm sure you're incompetent when it comes to cle
aning." Estelle said, and her and Stacy pushed me back into the bathroom. Estelle pointed to a spot on the floor. "You missed a spot." I really didn't see it, but I re-wiped it. "And here, you slob," I wiped that too. "You're really something. You're a wimp aren't you?"

  I was shocked by the question, and didn't know what to say.

  "I can tell you're a born submissive. I bet you'd be a good slave. Do you ever fantasize about being a slave?"

  "Yes. Yes I do." I had to admit. "And with you as my mistress."

  "You might think this is your lucky day, but we're going to show you what it's like to be a slave. See the thing is Stacy wants a slave and I'm going to help her find and train one. Do you want us to test you? I don't think you'll really be able to handle it, but this might be the last chance you ever have at getting a hot mistress."

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. See the thing is, I've fantasized about having a mistress for like fifteen years. I'm not the richest man in the world, so I can't afford to go to Dominatrix that you pay to see. "Oh my God, I mean Goddess, oh my Goddess yes."

  "We are going to punish you for two things. For staring at Stacy's ass, and for peeing on the floor, I want you to take off your clothes."

  I was so nervous, and it seemed so sudden, but I knew that if I wanted to explore what I had dreamed about for so long, I had to go for it. I started to take off my clothes. "You just know a little wimp like this is going to have a small dick." Estelle said. The worst thing is that she was right; I'm only five inches on a good day. I took off my underwear anyway.

  "Oh my God, you're right." Stacy said. "My boyfriend is so much better."

  "That's right wimp, Stacy has a boyfriend," Estelle said. "You'll just be her slave. You were really staring at her ass, it must have been for at least ten minutes."

 

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