Dirty Forbidden Collection

by Amira Bradford

  The penis managed to squirm its head out of Joe's pajamas again. Its little mouth seemed to pout as it said, "I mean it, Joe, I'm going to make trouble this time. I'm getting real bored down here with nothing to do but piss and feel your palm rip my skin off every night." Its mouth drooled a last drop of whitish fluid as if to punctuate the last remark.

  "Well if you would just cooperate a little more..." Joe told his offending organ.

  "It's not me," Joe's penis said, its mouth bent in anger. "Let's face it, Joe, the girl scout cheerleaders fantasy isn't working any more. You've got to come up with some new material for us."

  "The fantasy is still great and you know it," Joe told his bitter wiener. "It's you that won't cooperate."

  "That's just because I can't remember what a real pussy feels like any more!" his penis shouted, urine spittle flying from its mouth. "I'm tired of old mammoth cave over there. I need something young and tight. If you don't get us some real action, then I'm going to take matters into my own hands. How long do you think I'm just going to sit here quietly in your pants and take all this chickenshit crap? I want some real action."

  "You ain't going to do shit," Joe told his penis, poking it back into his pants. "You're just a goddamn hallucination."

  He rolled over on his stomach to squelch his penis's protesting thrashes inside his pajama bottoms and finally fell asleep.

  The dinner with Dick Smithers and his most voluptuous wife Claudia did not go smoothly.

  They were all three chatting amiably when Joe felt something thrashing inside his pants. Goddamn hallucinations are starting in the daylight hours, he thought. He really had better go see Weinstein pretty soon.

  Then the voice started up again.

  "I want to make hot monkey love to you, Claudia," announced Joe's crotch.

  Joe's boss broke off his anecdote about his African vacation in mid-sentence.. "What did you say?" asked a disbelieving Claudia, her eyes fairly bulging out of their sockets.

  "I said I'm going to rub myself against those lovely knockers of yours until I spill my seed all over your rosy pink nipples," the muffled voice beneath Joe's zipper elaborated.

  Oh shit, Joe thought. They aren't hallucinations after all. "Shut up," he told his misbehaving crotch.

  "No, you shut up!" retorted Joe's penis.

  "No, you," responded Joe.

  "What is that, some kind of ventriloquism act you're working on?" asked Joe's clearly bewildered boss. Claudia was glaring at him, but not, he thought, without some degree of newly acquired sexual interest.

  "I'm sorry, Claudia. that was just my genitals talking. What can I tell you? They seem to have a mind of their own lately. Where the hell is Lorena Bobbit when you need her, anyway?" he joked, searching Claudia's eyes for signs of forgiveness, but seeing only lust instead.

  Suddenly he had an idea.

  "You must be joking," said Joe's penis, turning around to look at him from its perch on the workshop bench.

  "No, I am afraid not," Joe told his flaccid organ. "You've cost me my job. You're ruining my marriage. This is where we part company." And he brought the meat cleaver down again.

  And once again Joe's penis dodged it deftly.

  "OK, you weaselly little worm. No more Mr. Nice Guy," Joe told his rebellious member as he forced its helmet into the jaws of the vise. He considered simply crushing the organ in the vise, but somehow that thought sent a shiver up and down his spine. He saw that he was at a bad angle to wield the meat cleaver. He reached up on the rack for the hacksaw instead.

  Joe's penis seemed to tremble at the prospect of its impending fate. But soon it began to grow tumescent. "Wait, I haven't shown you everything I can do," it told Joe, its voice sounding quite panicked at this point.

  Joe drew the hacksaw across its shaft one time, producing a thin line of blood. This is going to be as easy as playing the violin, he thought. And probably will sound just about as good.

  "Wait, let me show you," Joe's penis pled. It suddenly grew rock hard and began to throb with pleasure. "How do you like this, Joe?" it asked as it began to convulse in the most intense orgasm Joe had ever experienced in his life.

  "And this?" it queried, showing signs of exertion as it brought Joe's pleasure to an even higher level of intensity.

  The orgasm did not stop. It went on for minute after minute, the intensity level growing stronger and stronger. "How about this one, eh Joe?" it whined in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice. "Not bad, huh?"

  As wave after wave of pleasure overtook him, Joe found his resolve beginning to weaken. It was impossible to sever himself from something that was capable of such feats of ecstasy. Joe found his awareness beginning to dim after the first half hour. The orgasms were still intensifying as he finally lost consciousness altogether.

  Months later, Joe was pushing his shopping cart down 107th Street. It was filled with scavenged bottles he hoped to trade for a pretty penny down at the Stop & Shop. He ambled along slowly, his gait having become a shuffling one under the influence of the drugs that they were pumping into him down at the shelter. His lips moved constantly, and he uttered the obligatory profanities at any and all passers-by. At first he did not notice the bag lady sitting on the curb.

  "I'd like to wrap these lips around you, suck you dry," she said. Joe did a quick double-take. The woman's lips hadn't moved. At least not the ones on her face. Joe had a sneaking suspicion where the voice was coming from.

  The woman's crotch began to elaborate. "I'll squeeze you tight inside my sugar walls, honey. Open up your pants right now. You won't regret it." Joe looked in the woman's eyes. There were clear signs of intelligence there. She would have fit right in at Wellesley or Bryn Mawr College if you ignored the grime on her forehead and the head lice. There also appeared to be a rather excellent body housed beneath her army surplus fatigues.

  "You too?" Joe commented to the woman. She averted her eyes, clearly wanting Joe to just keep on walking.

  "Finally we meet somebody with some intelligence," said Joe's crotch. "I'm so sick of just poking meat. I need a decent conversation. I've got a life of the mind too, you know."

  The woman's eyes widened at that. Her crotch said, "Oh so cute, and he can talk too. He' s not dumb like all the others. Can we keep him, Jillian?"

  Suddenly, Joe had an idea. He looked from crotch to crotch. "If we let you kids play together, do you promise to behave? No more talking in public? No writhing around in our pants or queefing during business meetings?"

  "Oh yes, please let us play! We promise to behave," said Jillian's cunt.

  Joe's penis was more reluctant. "I guess so, " it finally whispered.

  "Well, Jillian," said Joe, "it appears that ours is a match made in heaven. At least we shouldn't run into much of problem communicating our sexual desires to each other."

  Jillian smiled at that. She rose and took his hand, and together they began to make their way down 107th Street, visions of corporate boardrooms dancing in their heads.

  The End.

  Laura's Bet

  I like to watch. Not only is it the title of my favorite porn film from the 80's, but it also describes my sexual preference. And there is nothing I like more than watching my sweet, bouncy bottom little lady reaching a climax.

  I guess it all started with the introduction of marital aids into our foreplay. Vibrators, dildos and things of that nature, which we like to refer to as "our toys", became increasingly useful in arousing my wife and ultimately, bringing her to orgasm. But none of this happened overnight. It took months of begging, pleading and negotiating with my wife, Laura, before she would even let me use a vibrator on her.

  It all began innocently enough. Laura was cooking dinner one night and made a statement I knew was wrong. I called her on it and she, believing to be right, began to argue. Before the argument got too heated and one of us said something to upset the other, I asked if she was confident enough to place a little wager. Warily she asked what the wager might be. Since it was
a Friday night, which meant that we would probably make love anyway, I decided to make the bet sexual in nature. I offered to perform any sex act she might desire if she was right and requested the same for me if she were wrong. Despite the high stakes I could see that she remained steadfastly convinced of her belief. She agreed.

  While she finished cooking dinner, I went to my computer, "Googled" the fact and printed the results which proved that I was right. Before I returned to Laura and my dinner, I laid out a few of the things I would need to satisfy Laura's bet.

  "Well smarty pants," she taunted, "I'm right aren't I? Otherwise you'd have run back in back in here waving the evidence in my face. Oh, your tongue is going to be tired tomorrow," she smirked, letting me know that I was going to perform her favorite activity, cunnilingus.

  "As a matter of fact, you're wrong," I said triumphantly, handing her the proof. Her face went white as she read and she whispered resignedly, "Damn, I was sure I was right. I guess my jaws will be aching instead, huh?" she asked referring to my usual request for oral sex. "Or," she lowered her eyes and stared at her dinner plate, "are you going to take me over your knee and spank me?" which just happened to be another activity for which I held a particular fondness.

  "No, I don't think either will satisfy my desire tonight. I'm not going to tell you, but I think you'll be able to figure it out once we get into the bedroom." Laura's face went red and I wasn't sure if it was anger at losing or embarrassment but she nodded and we ate our dinner in relative silence. After dinner I helped with the dishes and tried to converse lightly but Laura was quiet, and I guessed she was contemplating her fate.

  When we were finished the kitchen chores, Laura sighed despondently when I grabbed her hand and led her into the bedroom.

  Laura went directly to the bed and held up the garter belt and fishnet stockings I had left for her.

  "You want me to wear these," she asked, holding the garter belt.

  "Yep, and nothing else," I replied happily.

  "And then what," she continued guardedly.

  I pulled back the sheets and revealed the hidden cache of toys.

  "Oh no," she objected, as she backed away from the bed. "I'm not going to play with myself for you, and certainly not with those disgusting things!"

  Now that was exactly what I wanted and believed I had a right to expect given the circumstances of the bet. So I replied that it was exactly what I wanted.

  "When Hell freezes over!" she replied and tossed the garter belt onto the bed and began to storm out of the bedroom.

  In the interest of saving something from the situation, I grabbed her arm and furiously started to negotiate.

  "Okay, okay," I stammered, scrambling for ideas. "Just put on the garter belt for now and let's see what happens."

  She kissed me lightly, smiled victoriously and went into the bathroom to change while I dejectedly picked up the toys and put them away, all except for one, which I hid under my pillow. I wasn't defeated yet and despite her cheekiness, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. Suddenly the door to the bathroom swung open and I saw Laura standing in the doorway. Her hands were on her hips which were thrust slightly forward, creating a very sexy image. The garter belt framed her freshly shaven pubic mound perfectly, drawing my hungry eyes like a magnet. My gaze moved slowly upwards, taking in the fullness of her firm, soft breasts, and the hard pink nipples which crowned them. My cock began to stir as she moved seductively across them room.

  Laura's mouth crushed against mine in a long, hard kiss. I felt her tongue dart into my mouth and moved mine to duel with hers. My hands slid down and cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her closer to me. Her breasts flattened and I could feel her rock-hard nipples against my chest. My cock stood at attention as she pressed her thighs around its shaft. I half-carried her to the bed and lay her on it, careful not to reveal my secreted surprise. Her legs parted welcomingly and I dove between them, my tongue busily searching for her clit while my hands kneaded her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples.

  Laura moistened quickly and the heady aroma of her musk filled my grateful nostrils. I buried my face deeper as her squeals of passion rose. For fifteen minutes or so my tongue relentlessly molested her clit, bringing her to the brink of orgasm at least a dozen times. But each time she reached the precipice of pleasure, I backed off until the last time when she was sweating and swearing profusely.

  "Dammit, Bill," she complained breathlessly, "I was fucking close that time. Why are you teasing me so bad?"

  Now Laura doesn't curse a lot, so her use of the "F word" meant that I was getting to her and I decided it was time to spring my surprise. While resuming my tonguing of her swollen, scarlet clit, I reached under the pillow and, careful not to divulge its presence until just the right moment, pulled out a purple, rabbit vibrator. Laura was too aroused to suspect anything and so I was able to retrieve the vibrator without being discovered. Even as I continued to caress her swollen nipples with one hand and lick her close to another climax, my other hand gradually moved the toy into position. When I felt the soft, jelly head under my chin I raised my head and gazed upon the luxuriant wetness my tongue had caused. Laura's cunt lips were incredibly swollen and almost perfectly matched the purple in the vibrator. Her clit was clearly visible at the top of her pussy and I could have sworn it was throbbing as I watched.

  "Oh, you bastard," she hissed, "You fucking bastard, make me come!"

  "How," I asked softly, playfully, hopefully.

  "I don't care," she moaned, arching her back, trying to reacquire my tongue. "Just let me come!"

  Just the words I was looking for. With license to proceed, I pressed the toy between her well-oiled pussy lips and slid the head into her cunt. Frantically, I searched for the two buttons that would activate the vibrating ears and the rotating shaft. Before she realized what had transpired, the toy to came to life.

  "Omigod," she screamed, as the sensations increased in response to my adjusting the tempo. "What the hell is that?"

  But she made to effort to dislodge the object. In fact, she actually spread her legs wider to facilitate the toys unhurried progress.

  I made sure the shaft was just deep enough to insure that the ears lightly tickled her clit. I didn't want her coming too quickly, before she had a chance to experience all the joy the toy could deliver. The rotating shaft with its plastic beads massaged her pussy lips until Laura was screaming with pleasure.

  "Oh you bastard, you magnificent bastard," she cried, as her body tensed for the first in what would become a series of climaxes. As the spasms tore through she voiced her pleasure by intoning "omigod, omigod, omigod" faster and faster until the words ran together and culminated in a long, loud cry of passion.

  "Ooooooooooooooooh," she cried, as she trembled and quivered her way to completion. "That was wonnnnnnnnnderful!"

  I turned both motors off and the buzzing and humming died away. Bit by bit I tugged at the base of the toy until it fell from her soaking pussy.

  "Wonderful, huh?" I said smugly. "Maybe next time you make a bet you'll remember what this felt like and I won't have such a hard time getting what I really want."

  "Fat chance," she sighed dreamily, still reeling from the force of her orgasms. "There won't be a next time. Now get up here and fuck me properly. I need a good hard, flesh and blood cock, not some piece of plastic."

  I never need a second invitation and soon my juices were mingling with hers, deep inside her pussy.

  Over the next few weeks I noticed a change in Laura. She appeared to be edgier and often seemed on the verge of saying asking for something before she went quiet and reflective. It was at dinner one night that I made the mistake of attributing a quote made in the news earlier in the day to the wrong politician.

  "Did you hear that our bonehead state rep Smith wants to raise the property tax again?"

  "You're wrong!" she challenged eagerly. "It wasn't Smith who said it."

  "What?"

  "You're wrong," she repeated.
"Smith didn't say that today, it was Carlson. I was watching the news when he said it."

  Normally Laura has about as much interest in politics as I have in hair-dressing but it seemed to me that she had been waiting for me to make a mistake for quite a while. Although I knew she was right, I decided to play a little game with her.

  "No," I argued, "I think it was Smith."

  "Feel sure enough to make a little wager," she smiled.

  "Sure. Same terms as always?"

  "Yep," she said confidently and went to the computer. She returned waving a sheet of paper triumphantly. "It was Carlson! You owe me."

  I pretended to be crushed by the defeat.

  "Well, my dear, what is it that you want from me," I said meekly.

  "You'll see when we get to bed tonight," she answered coyly. "But I hope you have fresh batteries."

  The End.

  Happy Anniversary

  She was rubbing lotion on her legs as he came out of the shower.

  "Getting ready?", he says to her, kissing her as he walks past.

  "Yes, I'm ready." she says, sitting the bottle of lotion down and grabbing her drink.

  It was her third wine cooler and she was beginning to feel a buzz. She rarely drinks so it just doesn't take much. They'd driven two hours to get here and fantasized about this night for years. The hotel was only a few miles from their destination and she could almost hear the music, feel the heat, sense the energy. Or at least she imagined she could. Tonight was their 11th wedding anniversary and they'd decided a few weeks ago to come here. They'd found the club online. It was perfect for what they had in mind. Anything went tonight. They were going to finally live out their fantasy. Whatever happened .. happened.

  He glances at her as she pulls the skimpy black dress over her head.

  "It's a little short don't you think?" she says to him biting her lip. She's nervous, but so excited she's shaking and already wet. Her freshly shaved pussy was tingling. Her skimpy thong was touching her lips, and the fabric was rubbing her in just the right places.