Down and Dirty

by Alison Tyler

  He had been away for more than three weeks, traveling on business while she attended to her own career. In fact, she’d been so busy she’d hardly had any time to think about what she was going to get him. When Aaron had returned home late last night, Christmas Eve, Christelle had been excited to see him and deeply horny from weeks of deprivation. But Aaron had been too tired from his long plane trip to make love, and the two of them had tumbled swiftly into bed and soon were asleep. She could still feel the ache of pent-up desire for her absent lover. She rubbed herself and moaned, very close to coming—but not wanting to get off without him.

  When Christelle finally slipped out of the tangled covers and put on her robe, her legs felt weak and her nipples rubbed firmly against the rough terry cloth. She found Aaron sitting on the living room sofa by the Christmas tree, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. A series of packages wrapped in silver, gold, red, and green had been neatly arrayed in front of the tree. Aaron wore his silk robe, which hung open far enough to show Christelle her lover’s lightly furred chest. She went up to him, sat in his broad lap, and cuddled up against that chest, running her fingers over it as she kissed his neck.

  “Merry Christmas,” he told her. “Ready to open your presents?”

  “They’re for me?” she asked, feigning innocence. “But I didn’t get you anything!”

  “Then you’d better open your presents, or it’ll hardly be Christmas, will it?”

  “Promise you’re not mad I didn’t get you anything?”

  Aaron smiled. “Open your presents,” he said warmly.

  Christelle retrieved the boxes, counting five. She set them next to Aaron in the sofa and sat in his lap again. She loved the fact that Aaron was big enough to sit on. She picked up the smallest box and shook it. She heard the faint rustling of metal—it sounded almost like a chain. A necklace? Unable to stand the suspense, she ripped open the wrapping and took off the top of the glittering gold box. Her mouth dropped open.

  “I hope you’re not wearing anything under that robe,” said Aaron, tugging away the terry cloth as he took the nipple clamps out of the box. He exposed Christelle’s nipples, and she moaned softly as he fitted the clamps over them. She gasped as the faint throb of pain settled into her. She felt her clit swell to match the sensation in her nipples, and her pussy suddenly felt hot and tight.

  “Next present,” said Aaron.

  Breathing heavily, Christelle picked up the next smallest box and tore off the wrapping. When the box top came off, she stared, wide-eyed, hand at her mouth.

  “Here,” said Aaron. “Let me put it on for you.”

  Christelle obediently sat still in Aaron’s lap as his big hands drew the thick black leather collar around her throat, buckled it and clicked the padlock closed. She felt the pressure of the nipple clamps increasing as her nipples hardened still more. Her pussy was beginning to hurt; it felt so swollen and hungry.

  “Open the next box, dear,” said Aaron.

  Christelle obeyed, quickly tearing the silver wrapping and opening the box. She tried to suppress the moan that issued from her lips as she looked into the box.

  “Be a good girl,” said Aaron. “Stand up and take off your robe.”

  Christelle stood and slid her terry cloth robe over her shoulders. It fell in a pool to the floor. She leaned forward, closing her eyes. Aaron had to remove one nipple clamp to thread the chain that connected them through the twin openings of the PVC bra. When he told her to turn around, she obeyed, and he fastened the strap tight across her back, making her nipples stand out distended through the tight, tiny openings. He replaced the nipple clamp and nodded toward the next package.

  Christelle curled up in Aaron’s lap, nude except for the collar, bra and nipple clamps. The next box was considerably larger. She plucked off the ribbon, tore the gold paper and opened it.

  Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears.

  “Bend over,” said Aaron.

  Christelle could feel herself shaking as she stood up and bent over the coffee table, supporting herself with her outstretched arms. Aaron fitted the enormous dildo into the harness. Christelle was wet to the point of dripping. But this dildo was considerably bigger than any she’d ever taken, bigger even than Aaron’s cock. He teased open Christelle’s pussy lips and inserted the dildo with a single rough thrust that made her gasp and straighten up.

  “I told you to bend over,” he growled.

  Christelle obediently bent back over, lifting her ass high in the air as Aaron pushed the dildo all the way into her and buckled the harness around her waist and thighs. The harness was fitted with a rubber ridge that pressed very hard against her clit as Aaron cinched the buckles tight. Aaron licked his thumb, and then as he pried her smooth rear cheeks apart, Christelle felt the firmness of pressure circling her exposed anus.

  “I had to look everywhere to find one that kept your asshole exposed,” said Aaron. “I prefer to keep it exposed whenever possible.”

  Christelle responded with an inarticulate moan, her body swaying with the sensations of her stuffed-full pussy.

  “Next package,” said Aaron.

  Christelle was frightened and excited at what she might find. She sat in Aaron’s lap with great difficulty, every movement of her lower body seeming to press the dildo deeper inside her and make her shiver with sensation. She was very close to a climax, but it wouldn’t do to come until she’d opened the last present.

  She tore the red-and-green paper and opened the box.

  “You know what to do, darling,” Aaron said with a smile.

  And Christelle did. Her hands were shaking; she was so turned on. She took out the big bottle of lube and pulled open Aaron’s robe, revealing his fully erect cock. She went down on her knees and took it in her mouth, licking up the shaft to the head. Then Christelle drizzled some lube over the head and smeared it down the shaft. Turning around, Christelle held Aaron’s cock in one hand and guided it smoothly between her rear cheeks. Aaron took firm hold of Christelle’s hips and pulled her down onto him. Her eyes went wide as she was forced down onto Aaron’s cock. She could feel the thickness of his shaft pressing deep into her body, rubbing against the fullness of the dildo already penetrating her. Aaron got a good hold of her and wriggled her down more fully onto his cock, until he was thrust as far as he could go into her tight back door.

  Christelle was going to come.

  Aaron bent her forward very far so he could increase the friction as he guided her up and down on his cock. His eyes narrowed. He pushed Christelle forward so far that she had to steady herself with her hands on the coffee table. Only the head of his cock now remained in her ass, the shaft glistening with lubricant. Aaron tugged down the edge of the harness and looked at the name tattooed at the base of Christelle’s spine, at the very top of her rear furrow.

  “See, darling? I lied,” she whimpered. “I did get you a present.”

  “It’s lovely,” he said. “The best I could have hoped for.”

  Then he took firm hold of Christelle’s hips and pulled her onto his cock again, the single thrust taking her down to the very base. Christelle gasped. The quick insertion drove her over the edge, and she came as Aaron began to force her up and down on his cock. Her orgasm intensified as she tightened her thighs and pounded herself up and down on him, making the silver chain of the nipple clamps sway back and forth against her chest. The orgasm was unexpected in its intensity, and Christelle was still coming when Aaron groaned and let go inside her a moment later, filling her rear entrance with his come.

  She relaxed against him, leaning back as his hands came up to pluck the clamps from her breasts. The sudden rush of sensation made her whimper in mingled pain and pleasure. “Did you like your present?” she asked.

  He rolled her onto her belly across his knee. Tugging the strap of the harness down again, he ran his finger over the cursive letters of his name.

  “It’s a very merry Christmas,” he said, and pulled her back onto h
im.

  SLUMBER PARTY

  Nora McGaraghan

  We thought we were being cute, having a slumber party, having a séance. There were six of us in my living room, all grown women wearing nightgowns and pajamas, playing games we hadn’t played since puberty.

  Jana was in the center of our circle, on her back. The rest of us had our fingers beneath her, ready to lift her when the time came. Tanya sat at the head of the circle, telling of the horrible way Jana had been murdered. At the end of her tale, we whispered together, “Light as a feather, stiff as a board,” and lifted up on the count of three. It worked at first; we had her fairly high in the air before she started giggling. That made Sasha laugh, too, and the rest of us followed immediately, nearly dropping Jana onto my carpet. What happened next is inexplicable still. We went from laughing, rolling on the floor, to rolling with each other...kissing, snuggling, cuddling. I’d never done that with a girl before, any girl, and there I was making out with my best friends, first Eleanor, then Kathy, then Sasha, then Jana (the dead one).

  We took turns, tussling, rocking together, helping each other out of our nightclothes until we were all naked. Tanya got the bright idea of lighting candles, and they cast a warm glow on our naked bodies. The different shades of skin excited me even more than I had been. My dark, cinnamon tone against Eleanor’s pale, freckled body. Sasha’s warm ebony arms on Jana’s tan back. We were pretty together, the different shades, the different hair colors, the different sensations of lips I’d seen thousands of times but never kissed.

  Without much shifting, we ended up in a circle again, this time, head to tail, mouth to mouth. I’d been kissing Eleanor, but then turned my head and found my lips pressed to Jana’s shaven pussy. It surprised me how easy it was to make the transition from mouth-kissing to cunt-kissing. It surprised me even more how much I enjoyed it, rolling onto my stomach to concentrate, to give Jana exactly what I like. I parted her nether lips and made a circle with my mouth around her clit. I sucked on it, teased it, then released and used my tongue as a probe inside her vagina.

  She moaned aloud as I worked her, and I decided to get my hands in the action, fucking her with my middle finger and pointer together. I was so overwhelmed by the feeling of power that I didn’t notice Eleanor moving behind me, getting on her stomach and parting the cheeks of my ass. Didn’t notice until I felt her mouth there, her tongue lapping up and down before gently pressing inside me. I moved away from her, suddenly embarrassed, but she grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me back, whispering, “It’s okay. It’s all right. Let me...” In that moment, I heard other voices, the sounds of my friends murmuring to each other. I looked around the room, struck again by the beauty of it, the wonder of it, all of us entwined with each other, lapping and overlapping each other’s bodies. It was heavenly, transcendent, and I lost myself in it.

  “More...”Until I heard Jana begging me to make her come, requesting that I put my whole hand on her, in her, telling me how she wanted it. How she needed it.

  And I returned to my job, aware of Tanya at my side, her mouth on Sasha and Sasha’s mouth on her, and Kathy parting Sasha’s asscheeks and helping out, going between Sasha and Eleanor. We worked together, as friends should, building the heat in the room until it hit a feverish pitch. Moaning, murmuring, coming. All of us together, all of us as one.

  CHEATING TIME

  Jay Hall

  I knew that Sheryl cheated on me, but I thought I could forgive her and forget about it. She seemed so contrite, tearfully admitting what had happened and begging for my forgiveness. For some reason, I thought I was a bigger person than I turned out to be. I didn’t mean to get even—the fact is that I didn’t know I was considering it. But I guess Sheryl knew. I guess she knew me better than I knew myself.

  Lauren and I were assigned to work together on a project, a monster ad campaign our company had recently landed. It was mandatory for us to spend a huge amount of time together. Working, you know. Late nights. Early mornings. A few overnighters. A few weekends. We ended up crashing at the office every once in awhile, knowing we’d have to get up and work in a few hours anyway. It was only meant to be a time-saver.

  But one of the mornings when I woke up on my leather sofa in the office, I found Lauren curled in my arms, and I knew it was going to happen. I guess I could have stopped it then. That’s what an outsider might say. But an outsider simply can’t see the situation from my perspective: her chestnut-brown hair spread over me. Her peaceful, lovely face, relaxed in sleep. I pulled her closer and shut my eyes, joining her in the world of dreamland, deciding then and there that we would make love...and soon.

  What I didn’t expect was how soon.

  Or how soon we’d be caught.

  Sheryl must have sensed it in my behavior before I did. Maybe her own guilty conscience acted as a beacon to recognize mine. Christ, she’d fucked my best friend. She had a guilty enough conscience for both of us, didn’t she? Turns out, she hired a private eye immediately, a man so good at his job that he caught us on film the very first time: Lauren splayed out on my drawing table, her pretty pussy held open by my slippery fingers, her nipples pinched between clothespins I’d snagged from the photo developing room. I’d tied her wrists with her own crimson hair ribbons, turning her into a present I couldn’t wait to unwrap. She was beautiful bound up, exactly as I’d fantasized. Exactly as I’d known she’d be. Willing, humble, subservient. I paddled her ass with a wooden ruler I’d had in my top desk drawer for ages, punished the backs of her thighs with a thin, cardboard tube from the mailing room that made a delicious smacking sound when it connected with her naked skin.

  The pictures came out well. I’m sure Sheryl got drippingly wet looking at them before ultimately confronting me with the evidence of my sins. The photos were black-and-white glossies of Lauren’s face contorted in blissful ecstasy. Pictures of her striped ass, her parted thighs marked with the lines of my ruler. The images of me were all in motion, my hand pulled back to spank that gorgeous ass, my hips rotating as I thrust my cock into her willing mouth.

  Those pictures are framed, now, and hanging in the private walk-in closet of our bedroom. Lauren’s bedroom and mine. Turns out, I don’t feel nearly as bad about cheating as I thought I would. In fact, I feel satisfied.

  I only hope Sheryl has her own copies to look at during her long, lonely nights. And I hope they make her happy.

  GO!

  Ayre Riley

  When he says to meet him in his upstairs home office, I know what’s coming...I mean, I know what is going to happen. He has his leather chair pulled out in front of the mirror, and two ice-blue bottles of lube are lined up on the floor. There is a neatly folded crimson towel at the ready by the side of the chair. He doesn’t say anything at all. He simply strips and takes his seat. I perch on his lap, facing the mirror, without impaling myself on his cock. I feel how hard it is, and I sense that it’s growing bigger by the second.

  In the mirror, I watch as he spreads my legs wide, so that my knees are over the arm rests. Then he starts to play with my pussy. He opens me up, and I watch myself becoming aroused. More aroused every second. My pussy gets so pink and wet as his fingers play up and over my clit.

  “Look at that,” he says, “look how ready you are.”

  But he doesn’t rush. The plan—always, the plan—is to let me come before he starts to fuck my ass. That way, I’m completely relaxed, my whole body overcome by bliss, and I can actually enjoy the sensation of being taken back there. Aside from that, there’s always the happy chance that I’ll come a second time. A chance that I particularly like to take. He goes slowly with his fingers, tracing around my clit, then up and over it. I don’t watch my face while he works me. That feels too personal, somehow. Too confrontational. Instead, I watch only his fingers and my pussy, as if I’m staring at a private porn show put on just for me, by me.

  Usually, I come, hard and sweet after several minutes of finger-fucking, and then he lubes himself up and glides in.
I grip the armrests to steel myself for the ride. He’s hot by then, and he pumps me hard until he comes inside me. But today, something different happens. Today, as my clit grows more engorged and my appetite for lust increases, I whisper, “I want something new—”

  “What?” His voice is a husky whisper.

  “Don’t make me come first—”

  “What do you want?” he asks next, and the way he says it turns me on even more. As if he’ll give me anything I say, anything I could possibly think of.

  “Fuck me as I’m coming,” I tell him. “Put it in me as I’m coming. Put your cock in my ass when I’m coming.” The words are blurred and spilling quickly from my lips because I’m closer now. He sighs hard, and grows harder, pours lube down my slit and over his rod, and his fingers start to work with more finesse, knowing just what I like, until I can take nothing else. I’m right there, on the brink, and I say, “Go!”

  And he’s in me. Lubed and slick, right up in me. My hands grip the armrests as always, but this time, I’m coming as he fucks my asshole. Coming right up there with him, and my body milks him back, contracts on him, to make him come. Then we’re both just left with the aftershocks, rocking in the chair, and staring at ourselves in the mirror.

  We’ve always had a routine. It’s always been the same. Up until now.

  But in the future, when I say, “Go!” he’ll know just what I mean.