The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  I turned her over and thrusted in and out of her in perfect rhythm. Her fingers were gently tickling my back. Her eyes were closed. She was moaning. Head moving back and forth. My hands were getting lost in her hair. I was gently kissing her neck and chin, every once in a while biting her flesh. Her hands travelled lower and lower down my back until they clutched my butt. Her hands stayed on my butt for the rest of our love-making, pinching and squeezing the flesh. It drove me crazy.

  I could feel myself reaching the point of no return. I picked up speed and thrust harder, deeper and faster inside Grace. Her moans became louder and more high-pitched. Her grasp became stronger. My hips were working like the pistons of a machine. Finally, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and I had the most intense orgasm of my life. I let out a groan and collapsed on top of her. She ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my shoulder. I rolled off her and held her in my arms, naked flesh against naked flesh, for half an hour.

  “That was great,” I said.

  “Yeah.” She kissed my chest. “I had a lot of fun. Thank you.”

  “Same here.”

  A lot of people may not understand how a nineteen-year-old boy could have sex with a woman who was old enough to be his grandmother. I can’t explain it myself. There was something about Grace. Something indescribable. I must say it wasn’t a one-time thing we had. We would get together a few times a week and talk for a while before going into the bedroom where Cammy couldn’t disturb us and have sex for a few hours. I am thankful that Grace came into my life. That she was brave enough to respond to an anonymous ad online and that I was brave enough to follow it through. I look back on the time I spent with her now and I smile.

  SURPRISE ATTACK

  Rebecca, Stockton-on-Tees

  Galloping along the ridge I couldn’t help but remember the last time I came along this way. That was about three weeks ago when Janet had cried off the afternoon ride. I’d soon got over it though because it is so gorgeous up here when the weather is this good and I really prefer to be on my own anyway – that way I can appreciate it all. Janet would just have kept chattering on about David, her latest boyfriend, and would have spoilt the peace. Days like this are too good to be spoiled by selfish girlfriends who only want to talk about themselves or other things, which of course involve them. I relax into Copper’s rhythm and let my mind wander back to that momentous day.

  Copper had been quite frisky and had been jumping all over the place so once we’d got up to the ridge I’d just given him his head to let him burn off some steam. Suddenly one of the “bushes” a couple of yards ahead moved and Copper jumped off to the side, unseating me, and I flew through the air and landed in a humiliating and very painful heap. As I was trying to catch my breath I realized the “bush” was now walking over to me.

  “Are you OK? I didn’t mean to spook your horse, but I suddenly heard this thudding behind me and thought I was about to be trampled.”

  I realized that the “bush” was actually a soldier obviously on some sort of exercise.

  “I’m fine, I think,” I gasped, still fighting for breath after being winded. “Where’s Copper?”

  “He’s over there eating some grass,” he said.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “They always put a warning sign on the moor gate when there’s an exercise on.”

  “They must have missed that gate. Are you sure you’re OK, would you like to lie down for a bit? Here, rest your head on this,” he said as he took off his combat jacket.

  Even though I was still having trouble breathing I managed to notice that his body was quite well toned as he took the jacket off and bent over me to put it under my head.

  He sat down beside me and took off his helmet, which was covered in leaves and other bits of greenery.

  “At least you look human now,” I said, as much to hide my embarrassment as anything else as he was quite attractive and I could feel myself blushing.

  “I think you should take your hat off,” he said. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

  As I lifted my hands to take it off, he suddenly bent over me and loosened the strap. As his hand brushed against my cheek I felt a shiver run through me.

  He carefully removed the hat from my head, but instead of sitting back he leaned over further and looked into my eyes. After a few seconds he moved further in and gently kissed me. I should have been shocked and shoved him off, but it felt so good as his tongue moved into my mouth that I just opened my mouth and kissed him back.

  I ran my hands over his back and felt the hard smoothness of his muscles, which were well defined and powerful. His hand settled on my breast and I felt myself gasp as my nipple hardened. He played with the nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling at it, which made my hips respond as the ripple of excitement spread through my body.

  I lifted his T-shirt up and he opened my blouse. He took my bra off in a way that I knew he’d done that plenty of times before, but I was past caring. He kissed my tits and licked and nipped the nipples with his teeth. My hand had crept down his body until I could feel his cock through his trousers. I massaged and kneaded it until his breathing became quick and he suddenly stood up and took his trousers down. As I waited for him to take them off completely, I admired his well-toned body and the way his cock stood up proudly to attention. I felt my pussy clenching in anticipation of that gorgeous cock fucking it.

  He unbuttoned my jodhpurs and kissed and licked down my midriff as he pulled them and my knickers down. When he got to my pussy he licked quickly into me and I groaned and my hips bucked at the sudden pleasure. Once he had taken off my jodhpurs completely he stood there looking down at me and I felt so wanton and dirty lying there in the grass totally naked with my legs spread open waiting for his cock. He knelt down and opened up the lips of my pussy wider with one hand and with the other he stroked me up and down gently. “Please fuck me,” I begged, but instead he pushed two fingers into my pussy and played with me. As he was fingering me, he licked and sucked at my clitoris. I was writhing with pleasure. “Oh, please fuck me!” I begged again, more urgently this time.

  “I am fucking you,” he said.

  “No, with your cock. Fuck me with your cock!” I demanded.

  I knew he wanted to – I’d been wanking his cock with my hands so I knew how hard it had become.

  “I want you to suck me first,” he said, and moved round to the side of me so I could take his cock in my mouth.

  I licked the end of his cock and it jumped in my hand. I slowly slid it into my mouth, playing with his balls with my hands. He gasped loudly and I started to move my mouth and tongue up and down his hard cock. I squeezed his balls and dug my nails in slightly and felt him tense but at the same time gasp with pleasure. I lightly nipped his cock with my teeth and he groaned out loud.

  After a couple of minutes he suddenly pulled out of my mouth and said, “Now I’m going to fuck you,” and drove his cock hard into my cunt. I screamed with pleasure at the sudden invasion and the wave of excitement that shook my body. As he drove his cock into me, I reached down and held onto his thighs. I could feel the muscles tense as he worked on fucking me. He had very powerful thighs and I felt even more excited when I realized the power that was behind his cock as it was driving in and out of my cunt.

  Suddenly my whole body tingled and my cunt was clenching as I came. I think I screamed – I can’t really remember as the orgasm was so good!

  After a few minutes he slid out of me and said, “My name’s Kev, by the way, just in case you were wondering.”

  “I can’t say I’d really thought about it,” I said. “But it’s nice to meet you, I’m Rebecca.”

  “How about getting together later? A few of the lads and their partners are having a drink at the Fox Covert. I would quite like to fuck you again and maybe even get to know you too,” he said with a grin.

  “OK, I’ve nothing else to do later and I wouldn’t mind another shag like that – once I’ve got over this one, tha
t is!” I replied feeling my pussy clench again at the memory of that gorgeous cock thrusting in and out of it.

  As I was slowly riding Copper back to his stable I was even more pleased that Janet couldn’t be bothered to come that day. And now I have a great sex life, which I know I wouldn’t have if she’d been there. All in all, even though I’d been really fed up with her for cancelling on me at first, she’d actually done me a huge favour!

  ANONYMOUS

  Siobhan, Manchester

  I suppose I should tell someone about it. My little secret, that is. It makes me feel cheap each time I do it, but nobody will ever know it’s me, I guess. And even though I feel cheap, I do enjoy it, and I know I’ll keep on doing it, despite the risks. It’s very simple. I like to have anonymous sex.

  I can be a dirty bitch when I feel like it, and usually I can’t control when I feel like it or when I don’t. I just know I have to have it, and for a few days afterwards I’m OK. But sure enough, before too long has passed, I get the urge again, and I don’t stop until I get it.

  Don’t get me wrong – I don’t just want to get fucked. I like pretty much everything, the kinkier the better. I don’t mean animals or kids or scat, but there’s not much else I haven’t tried or won’t try, to the extent that a plain and simple marital fuck just bores me. I still do it with my hubby, but it’s very routine and mechanical. But how could I tell him what I need without risking giving the game away or losing my nice, comfortable home?

  The first time was at a party at our house. I’d been having lurid dreams for weeks. Well, more fantasies than dreams, and in every one I’d imagine this man, just his body, he never had or needed a face though often I’d imagine the back of his head bobbing as he stuck his mouth between my legs and speared me with his tongue. I’d get the itch and have to nip to the loo to satisfy the craving with my fingers while hubby watched Match of the Day on telly.

  Then we had the party, for my birthday. We invited mainly friends but a few brought their friends that we’d never met before. One of them – God, I can’t even remember his name now – kept eyeing me up then looking away when I saw him, and it gave me the hots. Not for him particularly, just the hots, so much so I was itching for relief as usual. But there was a steady stream of people using both bathrooms so I sneaked out into the garden, round the back of the shed. It was already getting a bit dark so it was easy to disappear for the few minutes I’d need. Except that the guy with the eyes must have seen me go, and a few minutes after I’d started he appeared silently around the corner, his eyes immediately darting to where my hand was busy pressing into my crotch through my party dress. I was shocked, to be sure, but there was something about the situation, assisted by the wine I’d had, that prevented me from stopping. I watched him watching me, and it was like I was full of molten liquid and that taking my hand away would somehow drain it from me.

  He stood right in front of me and put his hands on my breasts, both of them, while I carried on below. When I didn’t object he pulled the straps of my dress down and pulled my boobs free. I remember feeling like my nipples were going to explode in that night air. He bent and sucked them, one after the other, and his hand covered mine and pressed. I think I do myself better than anyone else with my fingers, but I let it pass and pushed back against his hand. More to show I was a girl of the world than anything else, I reached out my left hand and unzipped him, and I still can’t remember why I did that, but he didn’t complain. He was so hard. Then he was pulling up my skirt and pushing aside my panties and trying to push into me, and it all got very clumsy. I turned him round so he had his back to the wall and I held him, wanking his prick with my right hand and doing myself with my left. He tried to push my head down but I shook my head and he looked so pathetic. Instead I raised myself on tiptoe and he bent his knees and I slid him into me. It wasn’t a great fuck in itself, but it was bloody exciting because it was so dangerous. I mean, we could hear the music and conversations inside the house.

  He was humping me and I was humping him and I knew he was going to come, so I got off him and finished him with my hand. Dangerous or not, I was feeling really dirty and didn’t try to avoid it when he spurted out all over my dress. Afterwards he just wanted to be away, so I said he should go back to the party and I quickly finished myself off after he’d gone, his semen still coating my fingers.

  He’d gone when I got back inside. Then my friend Sue came across and said I’d got something on my dress. I looked and it was his come, but she said someone must have spilled something on me, and she took me to the kitchen and wiped it off, at the same time trying to imagine what it was in case it stained. I could have told her and she’d have been disgusted with me.

  I did a lot of thinking after that. When I sobered up the next morning I felt mortified. But it didn’t stop my roving fingers when I had a shower, and that set me thinking about what had got me so worked up. Certainly the fact we didn’t know each other helped, and the cheapness of the whole thing, too. I knew then I ached for more.

  Since then I’ve been felt up on the London tube trains, flashed at and rubbed a few trouser fronts in crowds. I’m totally brazen when I get in one of my moods. We had a guy in to fit some electrical sockets last year. He arrived and showed me his identity card but I deliberately didn’t look at it because I had been in that mood all morning and I deliberately didn’t want to know his name. That’s always important to me. I knew he was coming during the morning – hubby kept reminding me to make sure I was going to be in (if only he knew) – and I’d been in the shower when he left for work. After he’d driven off, I dried myself and dressed in what I imagined the sparky would like, namely skimpy black underwear, stockings, suspenders and high heels, and I slipped a short dress on over it – not too short because I didn’t want to appear too brazen just yet, but short enough so that if I was accidentally on purpose careless how I bent over or sat down he’d be in no doubt.

  I was only just ready when he rang the doorbell. I invited him in and I thought I could sense him eyeing up my arse and legs as I led the way through to the kitchen where we wanted the extra sockets. I showed him then asked if he wanted a coffee. He did. And then he got down to work and was concentrating so much he didn’t pay me much attention at all. Well, what could a girl do? Easy, though I doubt you’ll believe what I did next. I pulled off my dress over my head, that’s what I did, quietly so he didn’t notice. Then I sat on the worktop and carried on chatting to him as he worked. I nearly laughed because he hadn’t realized I was there to be had, only covered by a few scraps of black silk. But he did turn round eventually and his face was a picture. I just smiled at him as he stammered and asked what I was doing.

  “Fucking the electricity man,” I told him. That got his attention all right.

  I stood up as he watched and went to him, ruffling his hair and pulling his head down to my boobs. I managed to get him turned round – I like doing that – until he was half sitting against the worktop, and I squatted down and unzipped him. He was nearly fully hard by the time I got it out and completed the job when I sucked him into my mouth, not using my hands at all. I made better use of them to unfasten my bra and drop it; then I slipped my panties aside and slid my fingers right up myself. Personally, I prefer to rub around my clitoris but men seemed to like it when girls push their fingers right in so I did that, making wet sloshing noises with them.

  I kept at him, even when he tried to pull me up so he could fuck me. He even had the nerve to complain that I’d told him we were going to fuck and we weren’t, but I was too busy being a cock-sucking whore. I kept at him till he gave up and held my head still, jerking his hips like he was fucking my mouth, just using me. He shouted out and spurted right into my mouth and I swallowed it all. Afterwards I just walked out and went upstairs, where I locked myself in my room with my fingers until he’d finished and left.

  Sometimes you have to share things for them to have any real meaning, especially naughty things. It makes them feel extra naugh
ty if you tell someone else.

  SATURDAY, 5.30 A.M.

  Giselle, Canada

  I’m sleeping with a married man. There. I had to get that off my chest. You’ll understand, I’m sure, if I don’t tell you his name. After all, he could be someone you know. Or you may know his wife or his kids. I wouldn’t want word to get back to them. And just because he’s cheating doesn’t mean he’s a bad man. He isn’t bad, he simply has needs. We all do.

  So, what’s it like? Well, last Saturday was a perfect example. At 5:30 in the morning, I heard his key in my door. That smooth metallic noise wakes me every time. It’s better than an alarm clock. I had been looking forward to seeing him all week. I look forward to it every week.

  He tells his wife he likes to jog early in the morning, before pollution envelops the city. He tells her he enjoys his run better when there are fewer people on the sidewalks, and when the sun hasn’t yet risen. These are only half-truths, because he actually does jog all the way from his house to mine. I doubt if his wife even notices any more when he rolls out of bed before dawn. I doubt if she ever notices him at all. That’s fine. I’ve taken it upon myself to notice him. In fact, I could notice him all day and all night, if I ever had the opportunity.

  I emerged from the depths of slumber as he kicked off his shoes in my front hall. I scrambled out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. When you only get to see your lover once a week, you always want to look and smell and taste perfect. And morning breath is a major turn-off. When I turned off the bathroom light, my eyes couldn’t adjust fast enough to the darkness of my bedroom.

  I asked, “Where are you?” as I walked straight into him. Ouch. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” I told him.

  He concurred with his standard standby. “Likewise.”

  “All week I’ve been waking up and asking myself, ‘Is it Saturday yet . . . ?’” That’s all I managed to say before he kissed me. An entire week’s worth of kisses in less than one minute.