“I’m gonna come in your mouth, baby!” he hissed.
It was time for the final push. I thrust my head forwards and gobbled down the remaining two inches of his ebony dong. It slid down easy. His entire cock was now packed into the warm, wet tightness of my mouth and throat. I pushed out my tongue and lapped at his pube-sprinkled balls.
It was all too much for him. He moaned and his body jerked and hot come gushed down my throat. His body spasmed over and over, and with each spasm came a stream of sizzling semen. He tore at my hair, grunted repeatedly, come pouring out of his ruptured cock and flooding my throat. The sensation was exhilarating for me, sheer ecstasy for him.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, dazed and disoriented by the magnitude of his come-letting. He let go of my head and his hands dropped to his sides.
Then he watched in wasted wonderment, through half-closed eyes, as I slowly tugged his spent cock out of my throat, one sopping wet inch at a time. It tumbled out of my gaping maw like a python uncoiling, until, finally, I had only his cock head left in my mouth. I sucked hard on it, milking it, draining away and swallowing the last few drops of his salty-sweet goodness. “Now it’s my turn,” I said.
“Anything,” he groaned. “Anything.”
I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my pants and shorts. My cock rose stiff and sure in the super-heated air. It wasn’t quite as long as his hardened rope, but it could still plug holes with the best of ’em. “I want to fuck you in the ass,” I said frankly.
He smiled and dropped to the floor and onto his knees, propping his arms up on the bench and raising his big, black ass into the air, demanding some man-loving. I moved in behind him, took hold of his butt cheeks. They were round and taut and thick, and I kneaded them with my hands, caressed them, squeezed them, slapped the playful pair of them.
“Fuck my ass,” he said, resting his chin on the bench, reaching back and pulling his butt cheeks apart.
I gazed into the blinding black nothingness of his asshole, and my pulse quickened another twenty beats per minute. I spat a couple of times into my trembling hand and then rubbed my cock with the warm saliva. I rubbed some of the spit into his bunghole and he moaned, and then I gently pushed my purple cock head against his pucker.
I pushed harder and my cock head slowly eased into his glorious ass. The sensation was pure heaven; he was tight – very, very tight. I shoved more of my rigid cock into his vicelike bum, more and more, until, unexpectedly, he thrust backwards and my cock sank all the way in. I was buried to the balls. “Yeah,” I groaned, the hot, tight feeling sending sexual shock waves crashing through my electrified body.
“Fuck my ass!” he pleaded.
I thrust in and out of him, slowly, slowly at first, then faster and faster. My steely seven inches cut him in two as I banged away at him, pounding my meat into his spectacular ass. My balls smacked against his rippling butt cheeks, the sharp sound rising above our muted moaning and groaning, and I slammed him over and over again.
There is no better sensation on this earth than the raw, unbridled, flaming sexual sensation of plundering a young man’s heavy, gripping ass with a raging hard-on. I thumped my new lover’s bottom for all I was worth, for as long and as hard as I could. And that wasn’t long. “I’m gonna come!” I cried out hoarsely.
“Come in my ass!” he hissed.
My head started to swim and sweat poured off my face, and then searing semen raced the engorged length of my dick, roared out of the tip and erupted into his butt. “Fuck, yeah,” I whimpered, my body jerking to and fro as I blasted that sweet man with load after load of jism. His butt cheeks bounced joyously as I kept pounding into him, filling his ass with come.
Somehow, we managed to pull ourselves back together, and I sold him the pants that he’d taken into the change room. Before he left, I gave him my business card – with my home phone number jotted in.
TEMPER TANTRUM
Charlotte, Stittsville
I’m a freak . . . Charlotte Davidson, a woman who doesn’t orgasm. I’ve tried. I’ve had sex with numerous men. But I’ve never managed to come. I was resigned to spending my life as an orgasmic virgin. Then about a year ago, in a most unladylike display, I threw a temper tantrum.
I was a dinner guest of Alice and John, my best friends. Alice was constantly finding eligible men for me, hoping someone could solve my sexual difficulties. Tonight’s “eligible man” was Nigel Roberts, a new faculty member at the college where we taught. Apparently Mr Roberts was very interested in me.
The dinner had gone well and Roberts was both interesting and charming. Then over cognac Alice asked, “Nigel, can you recommend a good sex manual for Charlie? She has a problem: she can’t come during sex. She’s fucked many men but nobody’s managed to bring her to orgasm.”
I blushed scarlet and squirmed in embarrassment at this public announcement of my sexual inadequacies.
Roberts looked puzzled. “You must have sex with the wrong men,” he said. “Giving an orgasm is easy if you handle the woman properly.”
His arrogance enraged me.
“So making a woman come is straightforward, is it?” I snapped. “Just follow the instructions in some manual and bingo . . . orgasm. Well, it’s not like that with me. Every man has told me my cunt is too tight and I appear not to have a clitoris. So I’m a very difficult lay. I’ll bet you can’t make me come, Mr Roberts.”
Roberts considered for several seconds. “I’ll bet I can, Ms Davidson.”
I was furious. “I think you’re a conceited prick,” I snarled. “How much do you want to bet? A hundred bucks.”
“Done,” he said.
When Alice and I were alone I hissed, “How could you do that, Alice?”
“Because Nigel’s the right man for you, Charlie,” she replied. “He’s the nicest guy, he’s good-looking and he’s hot for you. So get over your temper tantrum. Just go to bed and fuck him.”
But I thought Nigel Roberts a conceited male with an inflated ego and I intended to deflate it. As we left he said, “You’re a challenging woman, Ms Davidson. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I expected we would meet in a bar some evening, and after a couple of drinks Roberts would take me back to his apartment for sex. Instead he arranged our encounter on a Saturday afternoon in the lobby of an upscale hotel. As we met, I did not offer to shake his hand but he raised mine to his lips to kiss. “You look beautiful, Ms Davidson,” he murmured.
I am not beautiful and I know it. The bastard is mocking me, I thought. That’ll make his humiliation especially pleasing.
“So, where do we fuck?” I asked.
“In one of the hotel rooms,” he replied.
I was astonished. Roberts had booked a room in this expensive hotel for a sexual encounter that would last only a few minutes! The room was lavishly appointed with a luxurious king-size bed. Well, I thought, at least I’ll be comfortable while he fumbles with me.
“Do you have any rules I must follow?” he asked.
I eyed him, trying to decide how far I could trust him. “No. You may do whatever you like, but I can stop you at any time.” He nodded in agreement. “And you must undress first.”
Roberts was taken aback, but reluctantly he complied. He was tall, slim and well toned, really quite handsome. But his cock . . . uh . . . feeble.
Roberts moved behind me and I stood motionless as he peeled off my top and unhooked my bra. He cupped my breasts, fondling them, playing with the nipples. “Your breasts are perfect, Ms Davidson,” he whispered.
Lying bastard, I thought. I know my tits are too small.
He unfastened my skirt and slipped it over my hips. Suddenly, through my panties, I felt a hard ridge jammed against my ass. Holding my rear tight against his erection, Roberts slipped a hand down the front of my panties, stretching them as he cupped my mons, combing his fingers through my pubic hair. He moved lower, probing for my absent clitoris, then burrowed into my slit.
I realized with surprise that
I liked his foreplay. Jesus, no! I thought. I’m here to humiliate this man.
Roberts knelt before me and pressed his face into my crotch. I felt his warm breath through my panties before he slowly pulled them down to my thighs. Suddenly I felt shy. I’ve undressed for innumerable men, so why should I feel embarrassed? But standing there in black stockings and high heels with my panties around my thighs I felt utterly naked.
“I think a woman is most sensuous when stripped as you are now, Ms Davidson. You are gorgeous.” I blushed scarlet at the compliment.
Roberts pressed his face into the triangle of fur I left on my shaved pubis, then buried his nose in my crotch. “Your womanly aromas are intoxicating,” he murmured.
Jesus, I thought, what’s he going to do? I eyed his penis. No longer feeble, it was big and strong and eager. Suddenly he stood, picked me up, carried me to the bed and laid me on my back. I had to be careful my heels didn’t tear the sheets.
Roberts leaned over me and kissed my eyes, licking the closed lids. His tongue traced a path along my throat then lapped in the hollow at the base. He took my breasts again, kneading them, squeezing them hard. They were swollen by his stimulation and he sucked hard on my engorged nipples.
I liked his smell and the feel of his tongue and mouth on me. No, I thought, this is not supposed to happen.
His tongue traced intricate patterns over my ribs, moved slowly down my belly and licked my pubis. Then Roberts put my legs up to his shoulders and very slowly pulled off my panties.
Without warning he lifted me so I was upside down, my head and shoulders resting on the bed with my ass in the air against his chest. Seizing my ankles, he splayed my legs wide to expose my genitals just inches from his face. He contemplated my pussy with rapt attention then put his face into my vulva and inhaled.
“The flower between your legs is exquisite,” he breathed, “and its fragrance is divine. You are mouth-watering, Ms Davidson, the most erotic woman I have ever seen.”
Me, erotic! He’s delusional, I thought. But I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have permitted him to inspect my private parts so brazenly, but it was exciting. Jesus, what was happening to me?
I was trying to decide whether to stop the experiment when Roberts began to lick my inner thighs. He worked slowly from one stocking top across my pussy to the other. I’d no idea my thighs could be so sensitive and he left me gasping for breath.
Releasing my ankles but keeping me inverted against his chest, Roberts opened me, spreading wide the inner lips to expose the pink flesh and red orifice.
Roberts studied these intimate structures for a long time then slowly began to lick my pussy. My rear squirmed against his chest as his tongue probed every fold and hollow and crevice. But when his tongue pushed into my opening, I went rigid, unable to breathe.
I knew that I should stop the experiment now, close my legs. But the sensations were so delicious I didn’t want them to stop. I kept my legs splayed.
Roberts drew back my clitoral hood, inspected me, then hesitated, before slipping a finger up underneath it. I almost exploded. Whatever he had found up there was indescribably sensitive. I had never experienced such electrifying sensations. Licking his finger, he again went under the hood and rubbed what must be a clitoris, caressing it, swirling around it, squeezing it. When he pushed his tongue up and licked it, I convulsed.
I had to stop him; I needed time to think. With a supreme effort of will I closed my legs.
But he gave me no respite. Spreadeagling me on my back, he continued working my clitoris with his finger while sucking my tender nipples. I pulsed under the stimulation, moaning with pleasure.
Holding back the hood, Roberts again sucked the sensitive nodule. Then his finger eased into my orifice. I was wet but, as always, very tight and he had to work his finger slowly up my passage. It felt so good that I couldn’t breathe as he held me pierced. Carefully he withdrew his finger and sucked it.
“Your juices taste like nectar, Ms Davidson,” he said.
Again Roberts skewered me, pushing his finger carefully up my hole, then stirring, stretching, exploring while still sucking on my engorged teats. Suddenly, my body spasmed. Dear God, what was that? I thought. He rubbed the spot again, then again and my hips jerked uncontrollably every time he did so.
Could it really be a G-spot? I wondered in bewilderment.
He began pumping my vagina with his finger, alternating deep thrusts with pressure on the sensitive spot, all the while using his tongue on my wildly sensitive clitoris. My cries filled the room as I thrashed helplessly under the stimulation.
I realized I was losing control and should stop the experiment. But the sensations surging through me were heavenly. I thought I was losing my mind. If this was orgasm, I wanted it to go on forever. The waves of pleasure ravaged me as Roberts worked me into a frenzy. As the convulsions gripped my body I turned into a shrieking, feral woman.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more I felt his cock nuzzle at my orifice. My juices soaked us as Roberts pushed the head of his stiff penis into my opening. His finger must have expanded my cunt, because as he kept pushing hard, I opened for him. Slow, very slowly, he forced his penis all the way in, penetrating me deeper than I ever believed possible.
His cock stretched my cunt to the limit, filling it completely. My vagina squeezed the throbbing penis as I savoured the feel of him inside me. But already he was moving. Slow at first, then as my tunnel enlarged for him, faster and faster, Roberts plunged into me. I thought he would split me in two. His assault rose to a crescendo driving me into shrieking hysteria. I was sure that these were my last moments, that I would die from such indescribable rapture. As my brain shut down and my body disintegrated, my last coherent sensation was of an eruption deep inside me. As I expired I could feel his come filling my cunt.
Slowly my scrambled brain regained awareness and my body reassembled itself. Surprise, I was still alive! Roberts lay on his back beside me. We were gasping, dripping with sweat. My pubis and thighs were splattered with pussy juices, but I was in a state of total bliss.
“That was miraculous,” I breathed. “I’ve never been fully penetrated before because it was just so painful. But you got your penis in without hurting me at all, not even when you thrust so hard I thought I would fall apart.”
“I’d be appalled if I hurt you,” Nigel said.
“You didn’t, but you’ve given me the first real orgasm of my life, a truly apocalyptic experience.”
He rolled on top of me and I put my arms around his neck and crossed my legs high on his back. I liked his body between my thighs and his weight crushing me into the bed.
“I can’t thank you enough. I thought I’d die from ecstasy. I couldn’t survive many of those.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he declared, “because now I know how to open you, you’ll get them frequently. Every woman needs regular orgasms to keep her healthy and happy. You’re a difficult lay, Charlotte, your clitoris and G-spot are hard to find and your vagina is extremely tight. That means you have to get laid by the right man. And that’s me!”
I thought I would faint again; I was in turmoil. I had come here to humiliate this man. Instead he had given me a mind-blowing orgasm and now proposed to do it regularly.
Our lips brushed, our tongues entwined, then our mouths coupled. The kiss liquefied my whole body. Nigel’s tongue was deep in my mouth when I felt his stiff penis nudging me.
“Jesus. You’re hard again!” I exclaimed.
“That’s what happens when I kiss you,” he responded. “May I have you again?”
I thought for a moment. “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “You’ve already won the bet.”
“Who cares about the bet,” Nigel replied. “You’re the sexiest woman on the planet, Charlotte. The sight of your naked body fills me with lust. I want to fuck you for ever.”
Scarcely able to believe what was happening to me, I lay back and spread my legs for him.
It was late morning when Nigel woke me and I lay drowsily as he peeled off my stockings. He looked gorgeous, and his penis was so sweet, unrecognizable as the rampant cock that had impaled me yesterday. He contemplated my naked body and murmured, “Ravishing,” then carried me into the shower.
We crossed the crowded lobby holding hands. I tried to ignore the amused glances directed at me. But I knew my ungainly walk told every experienced woman I had a very tender pussy. And they would guess it was due to a night of wild sex with the man beside me. But I didn’t care. For the first time in my life I was a fully orgasmed woman.
Alice was thrilled to hear the result of our encounter and I had to give her a detailed account of my initiation into orgasmic rapture. “Told you he was the man for you, Charlie,” she said with a smirk. “He’s right about frequent sex and good health. Make sure you get it four or five times a week, more if possible. You’ve waited a long time for this, Charlie. Go for it.”
So that’s how a temper tantrum led to the loss of my orgasmic virginity. I’ll always be a difficult lay of course, but Nigel has discovered many different ways to ravish me and is always trying new ones. As promised, he keeps me fully sexed. I’m a blissfully happy (and exceedingly healthy) woman.
OPEN BORDERS
Alex, Bridgend
I know this might sound too fantastic but you can never tell what’s going on in other people’s minds, particularly if we’re talking about other cultures and perspectives. I still shiver with excitement every time I relive what happened. I think knowing that my girlfriend will never know what happened to me that morning while she was on the way to work just makes it all the more delicious . . .
The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions Page 46