Climax Taboo Erotic Collection

by Kelly Fleming

  Her body was still pinned solidly against the chair and the glass of the reinforced window, with just the weight of my body and my one arm holding onto the chair. So, since she'd already had the courtesy of undressing to the point she was...I thought it only fair. I wanted to feel more of myself against her, more of my skin pressing to her light tan, her soft flesh. With one hand I pulled my shirt up between us, and during so she started to squirm more forcefully. My hand, the one wrapping around us, and the chair, shot up almost instinctively, arm around the low back of the chair, forearm pressed to her chest, and hand wrapping around her slender neck. I gripped her firmly, enough to know that any further movement on her end would...not go well.

  "Stop it...or things get worse for you." Eight words into her ear and she settled into stubborn stillness. My thumb traced a light line along her chin, ad my palm and fingers squeezed a bit harder...cutting off her breath for a moment and reinforcing my point. She stopped...and with my other hand I pulled my shirt off, pressing my body against hers for the briefest of moments, feeling her heart thumping, and racing in her chest...and then...I lifted.

  I stood, pulling her to her feet with my safe grip on her neck. She stood straddling the chair still, my hand sliding from the front of her throat to the back, thumb on one side of her neck and fingers on the other. My free hand pressed against her chest, bending her over the low back of the chair while taking the fasteners of her bra in a quickly forming fist. I pulled back on it sharply, holding her there to the glass so that she couldn't come with it...and as I expected, the fasteners gave, the material fluttering down in its already damaged state to the floor under us. And she stood there, trembling with anticipation as I pushed her forward more, her upper body pressed against the window, her eyes looking back at me lustily, knowing full well that we weren't too high up in the hotel to prevent the curious onlookers from getting a show.

  She had her back arched toward me, the lines of her long legs in her heels was always a welcome sight, but bent as she was, it was devastating to my sense of reason. Her arms splayed out onto the glass, seeking balance to her body, and her head still tossed back in the defiant manner that she possesses, hair spilling over her shoulders and concealing my hand holding her. It was at that point, I'd had enough with playing around.

  I took hold of the last piece of material that concealed her body and pulled it down. The band of the material stretched, but gave and traveled down her thighs far enough for me to do what needed to be done. A moment looking at them and even I was surprised as how aroused she was...her scent filled the air, and my hand moved from her body to my waistband, unbuckling my belt and opening my jeans.

  She watched me from the corners of her eyes, her lips wet with her supple tongue, and she took in a deep breath to voice some thought...to scream...to let out the moan she wanted to...but I stopped her, my hand clenching tightly, fingers pressing into the front of her throat, catching the air in her lungs as I pressed my lower body against hers...my legs taking a wide stance so I was at the right level to press my absolute hardness against her, the head sliding between her thighs, sending a shudder through her body as I did so. My grip relaxed, and I could see the hair on the skin of her arms go stiff, could feel the gooseflesh on her neck, and watched her entire body ripple with the pleasure of the touch.

  I took the briefest of moments, teasing the both of us by sliding the head of my shaft between her lips. We were both panting at the sensation, testing our resolve. Her hips subtly shifted back, trying to guide me inside her as my hand slid down, taking her hip firmly, holding her in place bent there...over the chair, against the window. And, with a moment to make certain that I was right outside her, at the very cusp of slipping inside...I pushed forward...hard.

  She screamed a lusty peal of absolute desire as I did so, and was too quick about it for me to silence her before it happened. The feel of being inside her, after all of the build up that we had just gone through, did a considerably good job distracting me to what I was planning...thankfully, it took her a few moments to center herself as well...and when we both came back to our senses after that initial penetration, we really began to work off of one another.

  She pushed back against me, in a vain attempt to make it seem like she was trying to escape. But, given my position, I held her, and with each of her attempts to quicken the pace I tightened my hand around her neck...enough to make her gasp and be unable to take in air...and each time I would slide back out to chastise her, and wait long moments before going back deep into her, pushing her weight against the window and exposing her to the street below.

  And then, after what seemed like minutes on top of minutes, I held her there...my head splitting her lips, just outside of her...dripping with wetness...feeling her body shudder and writhe on top of me...and I moved back, my hands moving, taking her under her arms, lifting her up and away from the chair, and turning to throw her onto the already unmade bed. I walked toward her after she landed with her legs splayed open and inviting, as she tried to situate herself.

  She sat up quickly, but a hand caressing her cheek and then gripping her hair firmly solved that bit of disobedience...I climbed onto the edge of the bed, separating her legs with a knee sliding between her thighs, and pulled her down onto her back by her hair. Her back arched and she let out a gasp of surprise tinted with pleasure, and I climbed on top of her...spreading her legs fully with mine, shifting to run the length of my hardness against her slit. Her ruby red lips moaned in anticipation, and my mouth went down, teeth capturing the previously unmolested skin of her other breast. She wasn't even fighting back, now...her body to worn by resisting initially and wanting me back inside her too much to pretend.

  So...I gave her what she wanted. My hands pinned hers down above her head so that I could look down at her body underneath me, and I shifted my hips, sliding my length inside her...my own lips parted with a moan that time, the feel of her around me clenching tightly to every inch as it entered her...looking at her eyes, wanton and lustful, seeing her chest heave. I drank her in like a fine wine, giving her a moment of softness, of feeling me gently inside her......before I moved again

  Still inside her I finished crawling onto the bed, sitting on my knees as I moved one of her legs, keeping both of her slender wrists held on one hand. I lifted her leg, turning her onto her side as I put her ankle up onto my shoulder and released her hands...both mine wrapping around that one strong thigh, and I started pushing into her hard...each thrust shifting the bed, making it thump against the wall as we both groaned at the feeling of our lust finally getting release.

  Her hands seized her breasts, squeezing them as her back arched, her body shifting to better take me inside her. One of mine kept hold on her thigh...sliding lower however...so that my palm would press down on her clit as she twisted...as she pushed her hips onto me...and the other slid back, cupping one toned cheek of her ass, squeezing it sharply before pulling back, delivering a slap that most certainly could be heard by anyone in an adjoining room.

  Her lips parted and she threw her head back with a deep groan of satisfaction, the final push taking her over the precipice, as her whole body began to shake with the orgasm. I could feel her around me, her body and muscles clenching down, holding me inside her...and I kept pushing toward her body, my own climax very soon in arriving. I started to focus more on her body, trying to delay the end but too taken in by the sight that was splayed out before me to try and harder than giving it a passing thought.

  Her thighs trembled in my hands, her body shuddered as I grew closer and my breathing became even more labored...she could see the flush of my skin and hear my breathing, and started taunting me...one of her hands pushing one of mine away and her fingers spreading, sliding down against her sex, pressing against her lips and squeezing me with each stroke, her lips silent but her eyes urging me on, pleading...and with that, it didn't take long...I started to shudder as I felt myself release, my breath caught in my throat, my body arched against hers and pa
used right at the precipice...

  She started to shake again, the feeling of me swelling inside her pushing her back onto the ledge she'd just recovered from, and my body feel forward, the muscles tightening and releasing so strongly I lay myself against her, my bare chest against hers as my hips shifted, my eyes clenched shut, and I felt myself start to climax deep inside her. Her hands, in repayment, took me by the throat...both of them having to be used...and she tightened her grip between each one of my breaths...the asphyxiation and release only heightening what I felt as I kept pushing into her smaller frame, holding inside her until I'd finished and the world came back to me, lying there on top of her.

  We were exhausted; I was holding her naked and bruised form against my half-clothed body, out breath slowly returning to normal as we took in everything that had just happened, lost in a moment that would certainly kill us if it'd lasted forever. Needless to say, it is quite definitely something we are going to arrange again...once we recover from what we did after we caught out breath again.

  The End.

  Serpentdance

  "Religious beliefs of the ancient Egyptians were locally diverse and socially stratified. Practically every area of Egypt had its local god, which for its inhabitants was the most important deity, and the elevation of Ra to the level of state god had little effect on this.*" Hana releases an exasperated sigh as she lets the textbook fall to conceal her face. "I can't do this anymore. Remind me again why we're still here."

  I give my roommate a sardonic look as her blue eyes peer over the top pages. "Well, because I took Ancient Egyptian History 300 last year, and you're in desperate need of tutoring or you won't pass the next test," I recite.

  "You know, you keep saying that, but I'm pretty sure you tricked me into doing this somehow. I'll figure it out, I swear." Hana Reed tosses the book on her desk as she stands from her bed and stretches restlessly. "This dorm is making me feel cramped. How about we call it a day and do some shopping downtown?"

  Hana has never been able to concentrate for very long before fidgeting and becoming irritable, and I have no desire to live through another one of her moods so soon. There is a whole weekend separating today and her test, so maybe some fresh air would do her good. The toasty environment of the dorm breeds short tempers, and time away to refresh would probably be more beneficial than another hour of banging her head against the wall and pulling her blonde curls out. Probably.

  As I stand to grab my purse, another thought occurs to me. I heard through the grapevine that a new and obscure occult shop had opened downtown; chances were they would have cedarwood or lavender essential oils in stock, or something subtle to help Hana focus.

  When I suggest my idea to Hana, she suddenly draws me into a warm hug and thanks me relentlessly. Being a Wiccan sometimes has its advantages.

  It takes twenty minutes to ride the campus bus downtown, but another hour to officially get lost. MapQuest would have been a wonderful idea, but usually I can only perform one marvelous miracle a day.

  As we circle around a block for the third time, I abruptly feel a mental tug force me to stop, as though my feet have filled with lead. An unnaturally cold, early-October wind stirs my windbreaker and thrashes it about mercilessly. I turn my head to the source and face a narrow, unmarked building. Though curtains are drawn over the two front windows, a faint light softly illuminates the material. Something inside me constricts, and a shiver traces the length of my spine.

  "Hello? Paging Miss Oblivious, is anyone home?" Hana startles me out of my trance and I gaze inquisitively at her before my mind clicks into place.

  "Sorry, sorry. Umm...I think we're here," I murmur uncertainly.

  It seems to take Hana a moment to realize what I am talking about. "Oh." She glances at the building and her brow creases. "Leah...are you sure this is the place?"

  "Yes—well, sort of. All I know for sure is that if we hadn't been looking for it, we never would have found it."

  "This isn't funny, Leah." Hana turns to me, her face darkened with subdued anger. "I know you don't agree with my habits, but that doesn't mean you have to taunt me."

  "What?" Sincere concern coats my tone. "Hana, I honestly don't understand what you mean."

  Hana blinks in embarrasment as she senses my cluelessness. "This...this is the place I buy my...you know, stash."

  My mind connects the dots, and my mouth falls open a little. I found out Hana smokes weed a month ago when we were doing laundry together. I accidentally knocked over her box of dryer sheets when a foilie, a thin pipe made of tin foil, spilled onto the floor. After denying it for a few minutes, she finally admitted her addiction.

  Silence stretches between us until we simultaneously come to the mutual conclusion that it would be better to go inside and leave quickly than to suffer through the chilling wind. We open the door with some reluctance and walk briskly into the shop.

  Once inside, the first sensation I have is relief for the warmth. Almost immediately following is an aroma of nauseating power that assaults my senses in a tantalizing wave. Shrugging it off, I glance around at a shelf full of mildly interesting items: mostly crystal skulls and other junk. The majority of the space in the shop is occupied by tall shelves with tomes of various ages, holding subjects ranging from the ridiculous to the remarkable.

  After a few minutes of browsing, I notice that I've lost myself in the enticing maze of bookshelves and quickly make my way back to the front—no other customers are in the shop, making Hana easy to find. I locate her in conversation with a man behind the counter. He wears all black, from his sweatpants to his sweatshirt. Even his hair is a wisp of black.

  Something about him is intensely erotic, despite his average appearance. As I approach, he levels his almost bemused gaze with mine. His eyes are cold, calculating, almost like a predator, and yet I can't help but marvel at their hypnotic beauty. I find myself fantasizing of all of the dirty, forbidden things I want to do to him, and my body responds with a dull heat rising between my thighs. My nipples harden impossibly, making me grateful for the layers.

  Hana elbows my side, drawing me out of my entrancement. I cough uncomfortably. What am I thinking?

  "And you," the man addresses me leisurely but with vague interest, "have you come to sate your desires?" He draws out his S's, as if he's taking his time.

  I can only stare blankly at a point on his chest as I realize I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.

  Hana answers for me, "Err—no, she doesn't use."

  I turn to Hana and frown. She ignores me and continues, "Mr. Slendil, this is Leah Wyndham, a friend of mine and my college roommate. She's clean, though," she adds awkwardly.

  "Well, Leah. Everyone has their own addiction, each flavored to suit their needs." Slendil offers a brief smile. "Like popsicles. The question is only what yourss may be."

  Instinctually, I meet his gaze again; this time, I'm able to keep a clear head. "I only came here for oils, Slendil. Nothing else."

  He leans forward slightly and lowers his voice. His face is impassive, other than a sense of implied lust. "I'm not here to judge, Leah. Only to sell." He points to a display case that I missed in a corner. I go over to inspect the small, overpriced blue bottles, and as I leave he finishes his transaction with Hana. I don't bother asking what she bought as she approaches me and says she'll be waiting in the back of the store until I'm done.

  After a few minutes to consider the different oils, during which time I am acutely aware of Slendil's eyes on my back, I choose two bottles and a green soapstone burner with three cobra statues supporting the oil dish. I bring everything over to the counter, where Slendil writes the prices down in flowing script on a receipt notepad in passive amusement. When he finishes, I reach into my jacket and hand the money out to him.

  Slendil hands me the carbon copy with one hand, counting the money while I'm still holding it with his other. Our skin touches. Tauntingly slowly, he fans the bills out in my hands.

  "Your skin is
so soft," he breathes, stroking the back of my hand while his other comes up to glide over my fingers. I stop breathing, my body locking under his cool, velvet touch.

  Slendil traces the lines and curves of my hand, turning it over, caressing. His touch is so light it's almost tender. His hands travel up my arm, removing my jacket so he can take it all in. I risk a glance at his face and see him smiling dreamily, a lost look in his eyes. He skims his fingers down my side as his other hand ensnares my wrist in a firm but not painful grip and draws me closer until I'm bent over the counter. Escape doesn't even cross my mind as I let out a low moan as his eyes travel over my exposed cleavage. When his fingertips follow shortly after, a strange heat floods my body with sweet sensations of desire.

  I whimper in protest when he eases my fingers apart and takes the money. As if he had hit a switch, embarrassment floods my cheeks with color, and I grab my stuff and turn around before I can further make a fool out of myself. I call out to Hana that I'm ready and swiftly move to the door.

  The next thing I hear is Hana crying out in pain.

  I pivot on my heel and see Slendil, who has somehow silently crossed the counter to the other side of his store, twisting Hana's wrist behind her back. Crimson rage flares in his brutal eyes; what frightens me the most is the lack of emotion in the rest of his face. When he hisses, almost too quietly for me to hear, his level voice holds blatant threat. "You will watch everyone you have ever loved die horrifically, knowing you could have ssimply followed the rules of my establishment." Slendil lifts his fierce gaze to rest on me.