The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  He said: “Helen, what are you doing here?”

  I was shocked! Steve had never told me that his wife was so lovely and curvaceous. I had thought that she was a dowdy old woman. Why had she come? This woman was going to kill me, I figured. I braced myself for a thrashing, and I was thoroughly confused when this Helen woman did not seem angry at all. She merely said, “I found this scrap of paper in your contacts book and I figured that it must be your girlfriend’s address, since it was the only one I didn’t recognize.”

  Steve could hardly deny what was going on. After all, he had literally been caught with his pants down. He quickly started telling Helen that he was sorry and that he never should have started this up, he was a terrible husband, that sort of thing. Much to my astonishment, Helen wouldn’t hear it. She wasn’t interested in his excuses. I was still sitting on the floor at this point, and Helen simply walked into my living room and sat down beside her husband on my sofa. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, so I sat up on the coffee table so that I was at eye level with the pair.

  “I’ve known about you two for ages. I’m not about to tear a strip off you, don’t worry,” Helen told us. She admitted that she was never home and that she and her husband barely spoke even when she was. Helen understood why Steve might look elsewhere for fulfilment. She then looked straight at me and said: “I’ve never been much good at all this sex stuff. Never had much time for it, really. Never thought it was important. But I can see that it’s something my husband thinks is important, so I’m willing to give it another go.” Steve apologized once again, but Helen told him not to be silly. Helen then looked over at me, sitting on my coffee table in my black satin dressing gown, and said in a thoroughly businesslike tone: “I came over here today for a reason. I’m guessing that Steve likes whatever it is that you do, so I want you to teach me how to do it. I’ll pay you, if that’s what Steve does.”

  I was taken aback at the thought of being paid for sex, but also a little bit titillated by it. I agreed to take Helen on as my student, even though I had no idea how to teach someone to be good in bed. Should I teach her theory or technique? I paced about the living room wondering how to begin when a thought occurred to me, which I shared with Helen: “The only way to have really incredible sex is to be a truly desirous partner. Steve and I have such great sex because we’re so hot for each other. Half the fun of it, for me, is watching Steve get off on me getting off on him. Do you know what I mean?”

  Helen just stared at me blankly. She had no idea what I was talking about, but Steve understood. He told his wife: “I would never want to make love with you if you didn’t want it as well. There’s nothing sexy about that. The best part of it is in knowing that your partner is really aroused by what you’re doing.”

  I asked Helen what turned her on and she was perplexed. She had been focusing on other aspects of her life for so many years that she had pushed sex into some hidden corner of her consciousness. It occurred to me that Helen didn’t need to figure out how to give Steve pleasure, she needed to remember how to receive it. Steve and I conspired to help his wife remember how good sex can feel, and Helen was only too happy to go along with our idea. Our intention was to stimulate Helen generously until she begged Steve for more.

  I ran to the bedroom to grab a vibrator and some lube. By the time I got back to the living room, Steve had already removed his wife’s silk scarf and used it to cover her eyes. With Helen standing in front of my sofa, Steve and I removed her suit jacket and her pants. I ran my hands along her arms and down her breasts and her stomach over the top of her silky blouse, while Steve stimulated her legs and buttocks. I watched Steve rub his fingers gently against his wife’s mound, stimulating her over the top of her sensible underwear. I slowly unbuttoned Helen’s blouse, touching the skin underneath as I did so, until the diaphanous garment fell from her arms. When I unclasped Helen’s bra, Steve removed her underwear. She was naked now, but for a gold chain with a diamond pendant, which she wore around her neck. I kissed that chain, at the side of Helen’s neck, and that one simple act caused the woman’s knees to buckle; she fell backwards onto the sofa, with me behind her.

  As I ran my hands down Helen’s full, naked breasts, I told Steve to start up the vibe. I cupped Helen’s breasts while Steve slathered Helen’s pussy lips with lube. He massaged his wife’s lips with the wet stuff on his fingers until she started moaning softly. It was then that I squeezed Helen’s large breasts together. The sight of that full cleavage was really turning me on, and I could feel my own nipples harden against Helen’s back. Her husband then fired up the large cock-shaped vibe and sat up on the sofa beside the two of us. Steve placed the vibe lengthwise, facing downwards, against his wife’s labia and she reacted very positively: Helen pushed her whole body up against the raging vibrator, which gave me a chance to get my legs into a more comfortable position. Steve started rubbing the vibe against Helen’s clit as I squeezed the woman’s ample breasts. Helen moaned louder. As she writhed against the vibe, Helen’s buttocks inadvertently massaged my drooling pussy in a circular motion. I pinched the woman’s nipples and she cried out. I told Steve to rub harder with the vibe. The harder he rubbed, the more Helen thrust against it, and the greater the sensation of Helen’s fleshy ass against my own clit.

  “I want you, Steve!” Helen suddenly cried out.

  I smiled at Steve. It was working! Leaning back against my deep sofa with Helen still on top of me, I motioned to Steve to position himself before his wife. When I removed the silk scarf that veiled her eyes, Helen immediately grabbed her husband and kissed him wildly. Helen then seized Steve’s hard cock, which had become delightfully familiar to me over the last two years. She pulled on it as Steve crept closer and closer to her body. I watched as Steve rammed his cock into Helen’s pussy, feeling a momentary pang of jealousy which was erased by the pleasure of the pair’s motion on top of me. I thought this might be a good time to duck out, but when I attempted to get out from under the couple, I found that I was stuck. I was getting absolutely trampled by the fornicating duo on top of me but, boy, did it feel good! Every time that Steve lunged forwards into his wife, the motion of her ass against my clit thrilled my senses, so I rubbed myself against the woman. I was getting more out of this than I ever would have imagined, so I decided to stay put.

  With one hand remaining on Helen’s breast, I sent the other hand down to mash my palm against the woman’s clit. I could feel Steve’s slippery cock diving between my fingers as he penetrated his wife. The unexpected action of my naughty hand caused both Helen and Steve to gasp, and Steve began thrusting with renewed intensity. The pressure on my clit was indescribable as the combined efforts of Steve and myself brought the revitalized woman to a loud and frenzied climax. Steve pulled out of his exhausted wife, but I kept him going by getting a tight grip on his warm, rigid cock and tugging until hot come shot out across Helen’s ample breasts and down her curvaceous stomach. Helen laughed riotously: “Ah, my husband!” she said, leaning forwards to kiss his lips. By that time, though, Helen was absolutely crushing me and I had to get out from under her.

  Helen told me that I was a great teacher, but I refused to take her money. I proclaimed Helen cured of her affliction and sent her home in her husband’s care. I wouldn’t have felt right about seeing Steve after that, but I still hear from the couple every so often. Helen was at the end of her tether with her job, so she took early retirement and the pair does a lot of travelling together now. I’ll always think fondly of Helen and Steve. That was a pretty wild afternoon for a bookworm!

  TRAVELLING NORTH

  Sandra, London

  I always travelled north when I wanted to satisfy my desire for sex of a certain kind. I just couldn’t risk bumping into someone from my London office. Maybe a secretly filmed video of me in action is out there on a website somewhere, but it’s almost impossible to guard against that.

  It was early on a Tuesday evening when I was left standing outside the club in the cold wind. The
onset of rain only added to my torment. The club never opened on a Tuesday but Doug had emailed a request for me to participate in a private session. Dress like a working-class girl going to a nightclub was the instruction. I knew Doug was inside, but this was all part of his game. I was wearing my long black coat, the one I always wore to cover my sex outfits when I travelled. It offered little protection and my whole body was frozen.

  Finally I sensed a shadow passing across the peephole in the door.

  The intercom crackled, “Take off the coat, I want to see if you meet our dress code.”

  I met the request and held my coat out at arm’s length so it did not drag across the dirty wet pavement. Slowly I rotated round in a full circle. I was wearing quite standard cheap black four-inch heels, black fishnets supported by a suspender belt. A black satin G-string just about covered my shaven cunt. The specially shortened navy blue halter-neck dress was soaking up the rain like blotting paper. A curtain twitched in a first-floor flat across the road. Even at that distance, the voyeur would be able to see I was not wearing a bra. My long black hair must have been hanging in rat-tails. I wiped my cheek. The black deposit on my fingertips told me my mascara was running big time.

  The door opened. I entered. There were no courteous offers of a stiff drink or even a cup of tea. Doug walked straight through to the dance floor area. I followed. Five men in white towelling robes were sitting at two small circular tables set out in the middle of it. Though I did not know their names, I recognized them from the regular Friday and Saturday night sessions. Doug’s wife Jenny was sitting on a high chair in the shadows over by the bar. I dropped my coat on the floor and stepped up onto the spot-lit stage. Suddenly a wave of goose-bumps broke out across my freezing cold skin.

  This was not the first time I had bent over the leather-padded bench that was waiting for me. Usually it lived in the bondage room upstairs.

  “Popcorn,” I issued my codeword.

  I paused for a moment to allow the men to look at the bitch they were going to fuck. Most looked in their mid-forties, about ten years older than me. I enjoyed feeling their eyes upon me. The lust in their eyes helped to warm my skin. A little bit of tension hung in the air as if they didn’t know what I was waiting for. Doug tugged the lapel on the jacket of his black designer suit. The penny dropped, the five men stood and slipped off their robes. I studied the five cocks that were standing up in anticipation.

  As I bent over the bench Doug jumped onto the stage so he could fasten the restraints around my wrists. He did not attach the ankle straps. Nor did he apply a blindfold as I thought he might. My thighs pushed against the end of the bench. The bench was just low enough for me to spread my feet without the need to go up on tiptoe or take excessive weight on my stomach and chest.

  After a few minutes I heard and felt a pair of scissors cutting up the back of my dress. They also snipped through the neck strap. Once I was unwrapped, a circumcised cock appeared to my right. Roughly the man pulled my dress from under me. The resulting friction stung my nipples as it went. I exhaled sharply through clenched teeth. The cock went out of view. Two more snips through the strings running over my hips, another yank, and my G-string was gone. The cock then loitered between my pussy lips before driving into me. There were no preliminary slow strokes. He thrust hard and fast, his hips slapping against by butt. In less than three minutes his come was inside me.

  My cunt was not left without hard flesh for very long. This one was thicker. It stretched me as it penetrated. As it opened me up some of the first lot of come dribbled round my clit. Soon I could hear the rhythmic squelching of a cock getting sloppy seconds. It was equally impatient and soon added to the spunk I had already received.

  With one limp member still inside me, another firm one appeared in front of my face. It was the longest of the five, comfortably eight inches in length. I opened my mouth invitingly. He took hold of my hair and pulled up my head. I did not raise my eyes to meet his. He tried to drive it in deep. Clenching my teeth around it I signalled my limits. With the rules established I started to milk it with my mouth, occasionally pausing to flick its helmet with my tongue.

  One cock replaced another at the other end. It started to feel good, one cock fucking my dripping cunt, another nice long one in my mouth. That was what I had made the long journey for. Two hands grabbed my arse and pulled my small butt cheeks wide enough apart for it to hurt. In my mind he was drilling my anus with his eyes while he screwed my cunt with his cock. I was working hard to make the cock in my mouth come, but he was having none of it. Every time I had him close, he tugged my hair and withdrew. Another load went up my vagina. Another cock went limp with satisfaction.

  The guy with the long dick manoeuvred round to the other end. Slowly he pushed all the way in. With the state my cunt was in, I hardly felt the early stages of entry. But when it got to the top, I definitely felt it hit home. Gently rocking in and out he started to knead my buttocks, partially opening my anus with his thumbs. I knew where we were heading. After withdrawing his cock he started using two fingers to smear the plentiful supply of come and juice from my cunt over my arse. He went way beyond the area that needed to be lubricated. He covered my arse with warm sticky come.

  As I felt the head of his cock nestling between my butt cheeks, I relaxed in preparation. It forced its way in.

  “Fucking hell,” I groaned.

  He slapped the side of my thigh with both hands. Clearly there was to be no dialogue.

  Now we were getting there, now we were arse-fucking. The pulses of orgasm rippled through me, but I don’t think the guy even noticed. He just slapped the sides of my chest as I groaned. The tallest of the five appeared in front of me. I found myself staring between his thighs. Lifting my head I saw his balls pulled up under a cock with a hand wrapped round it. A man shooting in my face while I open my mouth to try to catch some spunk is one of my favourite sex acts. It is the act that really satisfies my lust to be a sex object, even more so than a stranger pummelling my arse with his long cock. I hoped this guy had more than an average supply of spunk in those balls of his.

  Long dick’s hands were on my hips at the time, so I knew the two fingers that went to work on my clit were not his, but whose they were is still a mystery. The guy in front of me bent his knees to lower his cock down to my face. In anticipation of what I was about to receive, I came again, only this time much more violently. A convulsing cock exploded into my arse. My face was showered in spunk. I was forced to shut my eyes as at least six good spurts hit their target. With one hand still easing his cock down, he used the other to guide rivulets of come into my beckoning mouth. I like to swallow spunk; it makes me feel so submissive.

  After cleaning myself up in the toilets, I went back out to collect my coat from the dance floor. I slipped it over my naked body and went outside to wait for my taxi. A taxi Doug had called to take me to the railway station; I needed to catch the last train back to London.

  LAWN SERVICE

  Roxanne, Flint

  It was a very hot summer and I was suffering. I was hot and very horny. The heat always did that to me. I was bored and decided to mow my lawn before it turned into a jungle. Weeds and bugs had taken over my backyard. After mowing it the lawn looked worse than it had to start out with. I decided I needed to do something about the lawn before my big 4 July pool party.

  I called to have my lawn fertilized and I was very happy to open the door and find a gorgeous dark-haired man with sparkling green eyes and nicely tanned skin. He was around my age, early thirties. When he lifted the lawn spreader from the back of his van, I could see his muscles rippling. I was getting wet just watching him move. He spoke to me in a sweet Southern drawl which just turned me on even more. I was such a sucker for an accent especially that of a good-looking country boy.

  The day was extremely hot and humid. I wore a filmy little sundress with tiny spaghetti straps, no bra so my full breasts moved freely under the thin material. I walked around the yard with him, p
ointing out problem spots I wanted to make sure he took care of. I made sure to bend over often to give him a good view of my cleavage, which did not go unnoticed. At one point I got down on my hands and knees in the grass to point out a clump of strange weeds. I made sure to hike my dress up a little so he could get a good view of my thong. I turned around to get his reaction and found him staring at my tanned, firm behind. I could see the bulge of his erection in his khakis, a very large bulge.

  I was glad he enjoyed the view. I decided I was going to enjoy watching this fine specimen of a man working in my yard. I sat down by the pool and watched him while he worked. He looked so hot and miserable pushing that big, heavy spreader around the yard. At one point he took off his uniform shirt and threw it on the hammock. I just stared at his tanned chest, chiselled with muscles and covered with sexy dark hair. Part of my yard had a slight hill and I could see his arm muscles strain and bulge as he pushed the spreader back up the hill. Sweat covered his skin making him glow like a bronze statue.

  As he worked, I imagined those strong arms wrapped around me, that muscular chest pressed against me and that massive bulge buried inside me. I was getting very hot and it wasn’t from the temperature outside. My thong was getting soaked and I could feel that aching need deep inside. I couldn’t help myself and slid my hand under my dress. I moved my thong aside and slipped a finger into my already drenched pussy. The thong was getting in my way so I tore it off and threw it onto the patio. I pulled my dress up to my waist and spread my legs wide open. I had my eyes closed. I was so lost in my fantasy I did not hear him walk up to me.

  He asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you today, ma’am?”

  At that point I was so aroused it didn’t matter that a complete stranger was standing in front of me while I had my fingers buried inside my pussy. My yard was surrounded by a tall privacy fence, plus there were not any neighbours close by. So I stood up facing him, slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. I walked over to him and reached out to undo his pants. I undid the button and pulled the zipper down. I got on my knees and pulled a very large, stiff cock out of his pants.