I could see from his open-mouthed blank look that Mark still hadn’t caught on.
“If you look behind me on the work surface I think you’ll find everything you need. There’s chocolate blancmange, custard, aerosol cream, some soft ice cream, maple, toffee and banana syrups, honey, some fresh raspberries and even a selection of fresh cream cakes. So go to it, lover, and don’t you dare disappoint me.”
I could see the light come on in Mark’s eyes but he still had to check: “You’re not . . . You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, but I am.”
Mark threw his jacket over a chair, ripped his tie off, unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up. Some chance.
He walked across to me and then slowly all the way around me. He dipped his finger into the blancmange and then almost gingerly dabbed a spot onto the end of my nose.
“Come on, you’re going to have to do much better than that,” I said almost tauntingly. I stood up and grabbed a handful of raspberries from the bowl. Clutching them to my cleavage I squeezed hard, then wiped the sticky pulp across the top of my breasts before raising my open palm to my mouth and wiping it across my face, leaving it smeared with crimson.
It was like I’d just flicked Mark’s switch: “So you want to play dirty, eh?”
Pulling open the front of my cardigan he scooped two great dollops of the blancmange down inside, then massaged it against my tits through the woolly material. Next he poured custard inside my knickers, front and back, before sitting me back down with a squelch.
The feeling was fantastic, possibly even better than I’d hoped. As I sat down I could feel the custard oozing out of the sides of my knickers and starting to slide down my legs. I could feel it squashing against my arse and fanny and being forced through the mesh of the briefs. It was cool and velvety and very definitely a turn-on.
“Oh Christ, that’s wonderful! Do it some more,” I implored.
Mark stood in front of me with the tube of banana syrup . . . and a tremendous hard-on. I reached for his fly but he quickly took a step back: “Don’t you dare touch me, you dirty bitch.”
And with that he started to squeeze the sticky syrup over my face, down onto my tits and then the cardigan and my skirt.
Of course it looked exactly like . . . Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. And so I stuck out my tongue for some “extras” and lapped up the sticky sweetness he dribbled into my mouth.
Mark picked a large chocolate eclair from the selection of cakes on the plate. Holding it to my lips he squeezed hard and watched as the cream squirted over my face and into my mouth. He then wiped the gooey mess off his hand with my hair.
Suddenly I couldn’t wait any more. Teasingly slowly I unbuttoned my cardigan and slipped it off my shoulders, then standing up I unzipped the denim skirt and let that fall to the floor. Still in my outrageously tarty underwear I lay down on the plastic sheet and stretched out my arms and legs like a starfish.
“Finish me off,” I gasped, “Tip it all over me. Cover me!”
But Mark had other ideas. First of all he sprayed the aerosol cream up and down my body: cold and almost fizzy against my bare skin as it began to melt almost at once. Then he stripped and his wonderful cock reared free as he removed his pants.
Picking up the bowl of ice cream he came and sat on the stool beside me and began flicking spoonfuls at me. Taking a scoop in each hand he shoved them down inside my bra cups and began rubbing it around my tits. The shock of the cold made me gasp and instantly had my nipples standing up on end. Another handful followed down the front of my knickers and I could feel it almost burning against my clit and pussy lips.
Standing over me he emptied the contents of the custard bowl over my body and the blancmange directly onto my head. I literally had a faceful: it was in my hair, my eyes, my mouth and even my nose. I had to wipe the gooey, brown stuff away just to be able to see.
I smeared it over me and started to roll around until my whole body was a marbled riot of reds and browns and yellows. Mark stared at me, almost hypnotized by the sight, and then hauled me to my feet and sat me back down on the stool. Fetching our sharpest kitchen knife Mark carefully hooked it under the front of my bra and with a single quick flick cut it away from me and then did the same with either side of my knickers until they also fell away, leaving me in just the stockings and suspenders. The cold steel against my skin caused my cunt to contract in a way I had never felt before: part fear and part pure passion.
“Sit still,” Mark ordered and began to pour clear, thin honey over my breasts. It pooled between them before running down over my stomach and on into the “V” between my thighs.
Taking a soft pastry brush from the jar by the cooker Mark dipped it into the honey and then began flicking it across my nipples, coaxing them erect.
Kneeling between my spread thighs he started gently twirling it around the entrance to my hole until it responded to his insistent teasing, opening, almost unfurling, like the petals of a flower. Then I could feel the bristles of the brush inside me: little circular motions tickling the walls of my cunt where the skin is most sensitive, coating them with a lubrication of honey . . . and receiving a coating of my love juices in return.
Feeling my cunt close around the brush – sucking on it, trying to pull it deeper inside – was incredible and I shuddered and gasped in response. Mark immediately withdrew the brush and I moaned again – this time in sheer frustration.
Dipping it into the jar again he began to paint my pussy with honey using long strokes starting at my perineum and working up to the top of my slit. Dip, brush, left. Dip, brush, right. Dip, brush, dead centre.
It only took about a score of these before my first orgasm “b-rushed” up on me. I clung to Mark for support, pulling his face into my chest and feeling his tongue lapping at my blancmange-covered boobs and his teeth nipping at my nipples causing tiny aftershocks to course through my body.
Eventually the storm passed, I calmed down and Mark stood up – he was looking nearly as messy as I was by this time. Going over to the work surface he returned with a huge, peeled banana and the bowl of soft ice cream.
“Banana split,” he said with a wicked grin. He dipped one end of the banana into the ice cream until it was thickly covered and then quickly pushed the whole thing inside me, leaving just an inch or so protruding like a little miniature penis.
The shock of the cold and the feel of the phallic fruit were too much for me and I climaxed again. I could actually feel my cunt squeezing against the banana as if it was a cock.
To make matters worse Mark was on his knees in front of me, literally eating me out. (Well, I had asked for it!) He ate noisily, chewing great lumps of the banana and then smearing it over my outer lips and into my pubic hair with his tongue. I grabbed his head and pushed his face hard into my groin, forcing him to feed in time with my own frenzy.
I felt the last mouthful of banana slip from inside me and then we were both down on the floor, rolling around in the gunk, covered from head to toe and fucking like rabbits. The floor was cold, hard and unforgiving but that just made me feel like more of a wanton slut than ever . . . exactly what I wanted.
We did it forwards, backwards, sideways, doggie-style, rodeo-style, sixty-nine different ways and all the time I was riding the crest of a honey-flavoured wave.
Finally Mark could stand no more, I could tell his own climax was coming fast.
“Not inside me,” I pleaded, “I want to watch you come. I want you to come over my face, all over me.”
That seemed to do the trick and within seconds I had jets of hot, creamy spunk in my mouth, dribbling down my chin and all over my tits – which I was contentedly trying to lick off like a cat that’s got the cream.
“So that was dinner?” Mark eventually managed with an exhausted whisper.
“No,” I replied sweetly, “just dessert.”
THE CHEEK OF THOSE GIRLS
Derek, Calgary
A short time ago, my girl
friend’s sister came to visit us for a week. Given that my girlfriend, Ashley, is an absolute knockout, so, too, was her twin sister, Abigail. I couldn’t tell the pair of them apart; they both had long, black hair and crystal-clear, blue eyes, high, firm tits and jutting nipples, slim waists and long, supple legs, and, best and most of all, plush derrières.
As an unrepentant butt man from way back – a guy who religiously tunes into women’s volleyball, beach and otherwise, whenever it’s on TV; eyeballs just about any magazine or tabloid that so much as mentions, and pictures, Jennifer Lopez; and, when he was single, spent many a Friday night scanning butt mags and bum vids at his neighbourhood porno store – the sight of those two big, tight asses prancing all over the place made for one of the most memorable weeks of my life.
On the last day of her stay, we took Abby snowboarding at a resort two hours outside of town. And after an invigorating morning and afternoon surfing the slopes, we made tracks for the lodge, for drinks and dinner and a dunk in one of the outdoor hot tubs. My cock had been a frozen cable all day long thanks to the heavenly vista of the girls’ board-squatting, ski-pant-clad posteriors, and it didn’t melt an inch in the bubbling chop of the soak tub, what with the two of them cavorting around in matching pink bikini tops and floss bottoms. Their heavy, heart-shaped asses, cheeks splayed into two glistening, golden-brown globes by the bum-cleaving thongs, were openly displayed for my erotic enjoyment.
And with my blood-alcohol level and waterlogged dong rising to near record heights, I boldly joked about going to bed with the wrong girl that night, at which point Ashley pulled her sister up out of the steaming froth and tugged down her thong, showed me a butterfly tattoo on Abby’s lower abdomen. Ashley sports a tattoo in the exact same spot, only hers is a heart.
After more kidding and more drinks, we finally piled back into the car and drove home. I was totally beat, so I mumbled a slurred goodnight to the girls and poured myself what I hoped to be a long, fitful sleep. And I was sawing logs like a beaver operating a feller-forwarder when Ashley woke me up by pinching my nose. “Huh? What’s up?” I grunted.
“I noticed that you had a bit of a ‘hard’ time today – keeping your eyes off my sister and me,” she commented glibly, her eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light of the bedside lamp. “Think you can give me a hard time – right now?”
I ran a wooden tongue over cracked lips, the fog in my brain quickly burning away thanks to Ashley’s unexpected heat. “A man’s gotta do . . . something,” I mumbled, then rolled on top of her, my ever-ready dick pressing long and hard against her warm, flat stomach.
I slid my hands under her top and cupped and squeezed her pert titties, while swiping tongue and swapping spit with the raven-haired beauty. I jack-knifed up so that she could grab hold of my cock and stroke it with her hot little hand. We Frenched and fondled for a good long time, before I finally broke away from her wicked mouth and latched my lips onto her jugs. I sucked an obscenely swollen, mocha nipple into my mouth and tugged on it, then swallowed her whole blessed tit.
“God, that feels good,” she breathed.
I sucked and sucked on her boobs, swirled my tongue all over and around her pointed, rubbery buds. Then I slipped a hand into her panties in prelude to pulling them off and steering my raging cock into her dripping pussy. But Ashley shocked the hell out of me by grabbing my wrist and saying, “I want it in the ass.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed, for I well knew that she was an anal virgin, despite my repeated efforts in the past to pop her bung cherry. I thanked my Maker and scrambled off of her, flipped her over, and then fumbled a tube of lube out of the bed stand that I’d been saving for just such a special occasion. I anxiously rubbed the lube onto my straining prong as I gazed longingly at my girl’s cushiony, brown pillows.
I wanted to sink my teeth into those fleshy bumpers, bury my tongue to the tonsils in between her hot buns, but first and foremost, I wanted to shove my fat cock into that girl’s unviolated butt hole before she changed her mind about the whole thing. I pulled her cute little purple panties down and off and applied hand to ass – gripped her firm, round butt cheeks and squeezed them, kneaded them, playfully slapped them around a bit till they turned pink with embarrassment.
Ashley reached back and spread her cheeks in open invitation, and I swallowed hard and gripped my dick and pushed my big, bloated cock head up against her tiny bunghole. I had no idea how I’d fit all of my swollen pork into her ultra-small chute, but I was bound and determined to find a way.
“Fuck my ass with your big cock!” she bleated, cranking the sexual heat up another few notches.
As her silver-tipped fingernails dug into her lush butt flesh, and her body trembled with anticipation and nervousness, I recklessly ploughed my monster cock-top into her starfish, penetrating her petulant pucker, and then began easing my throbbing rod into her virgin anus. She moaned and buried her face in a pillow, before unexpectedly thrusting her ass backwards, helping me bury my greased bone almost to the balls in her gripping bum. My pole sank into her butt like a spike into the warm, wet earth.
I gripped the sheet on either side of her and churned my hips, slowly at first, barely moving my ass-embedded cock, then faster and faster and faster, torquing up the speed to the point where I was banging the babe’s bum with an animal ferocity. I pounded my dick into her bouncing bottom, looming over the groaning girl and pummelling her ass. Great drops of sweat slid off my face and splashed down onto my sweetie, her tremulous ass rippling in time to my cock-spanking, my heavy balls loudly smacking her bronze booty.
“I’m coming!” I hollered, all too soon.
“Come in my ass!” she shrieked back, her head jerking to and fro.
I desperately slammed her ass a few more times, then threw back my head and bellowed and blasted white-hot semen up Ashley’s jiggling bum. My body quivered like a sexual tuning fork as I rocketed load after load of sizzling jizz into her beautiful behind. I filled her sweat-dappled caboose to overflowing, my ruptured cock pouring what seemed like a gallon of come inside her.
When it was finally over, I collapsed on top of her, my cock and body drained. Then I tugged my wasted dick out of her vicelike petoot and rolled onto my back next to her, let blessed sleep hit me again like a ton of bricks.
“Derek!” someone hissed in my ear, seemingly only minutes later.
I groaned.
“It’s Abby,” the girl shaking my shoulder whispered. “I need to see you right away.”
I groaned again, but allowed myself to be pulled out of bed, out of my bedroom, and into the neighbouring guest room. I rubbed sand out of my eyes and squinted at the spitting image of Ashley – right down to the skimpy, white T-shirt and purple panties. “What’s up, Abby?”
She hooked a finger in between her pouty lips and stared down at her feet. “Well, urn, I heard you and my sister having sex – I couldn’t help it, you know, the walls are so thin – and, anyway, it got me really hot . . . and I was wondering if maybe you and I –”
“Hold it right there!” I blurted. Even half asleep and horny as hell, I still had enough sense to realize that I had too good a thing going with Ashley – especially with anal sex now added to the mix – to throw it away on a fling with her sister. “I can’t cheat on Ashley. It wouldn’t be right. We’ve –”
“I thought you’d say that, Derek,” she interrupted, sliding her panties down to reveal a heart tattoo just to the left of her pussy – revealing that she was, in fact, my girlfriend, Ashley. “I was just checking. Now, how ’bout givin’ me some of that butt-loving?”
I enthusiastically reamed her taut, oversized ass out for what I thought was the second time that magical night. To be honest, though, I’m not exactly sure who got bum-banged how many times, because both sisters were walking kind of funny the following day. And when Abby had left, Ashley coyly confided that, as twins, the two girls always shared everything, but since Abby was the more daring of the two, it was her job to try out new
experiences first.
What I do know about that Ashley–Abby interlude, is that I fucked bodacious booty at least twice during one super-sexed night, and Ashley’s lush bottom has been mine ever since.
AN AFTERNOON DRINK
Susannah, Bristol
This is a heck of a confession, and if my ex is reading this, then my secret will be out. Here goes, anyway.
I came out when I was twenty. I kind of knew I was gay all along, but it took a more confident girl showing an interest and showing me the ropes to make me make the change from wallflower into participant. This confession is about my first girlfriend – I’ll call her Carla to spare her blushes.
We had been going out a few months and the French kissing and fully clothed fingering had progressed to oral sex. She was much better at it than me – I rarely made her come but she was a natural. I came the first time she kissed me down there and every time after that. All through the days in my first job I used to think of seeing her and having her go down on me.
Anyway, one summer afternoon I had been shopping in town and decided to surprise her. I took the bus and got off at her flat. She was in – just out of the bath and gorgeous in a towelling robe. We kissed and she pulled me straight into the bedroom with a wicked grin. We snogged on the bed for a while, feeling each other’s tits and stroking hair and limbs. Then her hands went up my skirt and started playing in my knickers. The familiar warm glow went through my head and I settled down for a good licking. Soon the knickers were off and she had my thighs spread, lapping away at my pussy. It was at this stage I realized I needed the loo. I had felt like I needed to go on the bus but in the excitement of seeing Carla all pink from the bath it had slipped my mind. I wondered how long it would take me to come. I could have a wee after my orgasm, in the “interval” before getting Carla off with my fingers. I tried to focus on the pleasure, looking at Carla’s naked form, her face buried in my pussy, her hand twiddling between her legs. The more I tried not to think about it, the more I needed to go. The two sensations became strangely mingled – a burning, prickling pleasure and a woozy, fuzzy pain. At one point I raised my torso and muttered “Carla,” but she mumbled into my pussy and pushed me back down. I held on.
The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions Page 22