The weave of each article clung to her as if an extension of the sexual perfection she felt. Did she exude that sexual excellence into the clinging fibres? Or did she draw it from the expensive fabric that cupped her breasts like shielding hands, the thin cords wrapped around her hips? They provided a minimally protective pouch for lips aching for Ray’s touch, perhaps violation, but at her moment of choosing.
‘Ray?’
Ray entered, his mouth frozen open in unrequited speech. Samantha looked into his eyes, the power of vulnerability becoming clear to her. Standing before him with little more than dainty patches of fine fabric covering her, she held some power over him. Looking away from his eyes would mean breaking the lock she held over him, but she had to see to what extent she affected him.
The strain against the front of his trousers indicated that Ray had more than enough potential to be a satisfying lover. More to maintain her empowerment, rather than to give it over to Ray by revealing her desire, Samantha peered through the fog of sexual tension that had condensed in the room. Ray bit his lip, reaching for her breast with spread fingers.
Perfect!
He wanted to touch her. Samantha wanted to feel his touch. The move appeared involuntary, as if outside Ray’s control. Samantha pushed past his reach, placing her breasts where she, not he, desired, flattening them against his chest, her lips beside his ear. ‘I have to buy this outfit – and wear it out of here. I can’t let the sales girl touch it and discover how wet I am.’
‘Hmmmm,’ Ray cooed. ‘Is it the outfit that makes you wet or…’ Samantha clamped his earlobe in her teeth, snipping his sentence. His rhetoric changed. ‘I’m glad we agree. This is precisely the kind of gift I was seeking.’
Ray tried to pull back, but Samantha held the lobe of his ear firm. With the barest of winces escaping from his machismo, Ray realised he’d been trapped. Samantha felt him tense, then relax. He wedged his hand between them, fingers stretching up just under her breasts. Samantha pulled him closer, giving him no opportunity to find something for pinching, a tender nipple, in return, though the possibility possessed a certain allure. Surrender. Control. Pleasure. Pain. The choices blurred. Samantha released his lobe, pressing a tongue in his ear, feeling the mounting tension in his arm relax, then gripped the lobe of his ear again.
Ray seemed to surrender, leaning to her with the weight of his full six-foot-plus virility, but she could feel him hold himself, and her, away from the wall behind her. Fear seeped out of her mind, flowing down through her, pooling moistly in the depths of her sexuality, tingling in electric anticipation at the extreme surfaces of her most sensitive places. Ray could pin her to the wall, but he didn’t. Why? Her fear deepened; a penetrating, yearning fear. His hands busied themselves behind her. She could feel it through the rolling movement of his muscles under the skin of his shoulders.
She pressed her hips against him, finding the hard bulge of his waning discipline. Even through his pants she felt his fever. Then he collapsed, falling against her, pressing her to the wall. His hand reached behind him, quickly, grabbing her arms; pulling them up, entwining her wrists in soft, liquid satin. Samantha’s mind wrapped itself in the soft woolly realization that Ray’s surrender had been a feint. While she had luxuriated in the pleasure of having him in her grip, he’d tied a sash from one of the robes to the clothes hook above her head. The loops he formed in the sash tightened around her wrists, pulling them above her head, lashing them to the hook. So exposed, nothing she could do could stop Ray from touching her in any way he wanted.
A visceral agitation filled Samantha, simultaneously burning and blowing through her like a sub-zero wind. Ray stepped back, leaving a dreadful certainty that he would once again deny Samantha. He dropped his cashmere coat to the floor, sweeping Samantha with hungry eyes of victory. Fear burned as the blue core in the orange flame of determination heated the moment to urgency. Samantha need to decide if her need lay in succumbing or resisting.
Some instinct, surged through the surface of Samantha’s consciousness. She wanted Ray, but she wanted him on her own terms. Whatever it was that surged from deep within took control of her. Grasping the hook above her head, she brought her legs up, wrapping her thighs around Ray’s neck, dropping her calves over his shoulders, then under his arms.
She held him.
In his struggles, Samantha felt a strength, the kind of strength that she both desired and feared, between her legs. She held him, till he calmed; peering at her over the mound of her thong, past her stomach, which was heaving more from anticipation than exertion. The mutual acknowledgement, in their moment of impasse in their gaze, gripped them both in something stronger than she’d shared with a man she’d let enter her. Already, Samantha felt a climax mounting deep within.
‘Untie my hands.’
Ray smiled. He denied her again. Anger rushed through Samantha. Ray shouldn’t have denied her.
Samantha arched her back, pulling her calves toward her, drawing Ray’s mouth so close to the mound protected by the sparse fabric of her thong that she could feel the humidity of his breath adding to her own moist heat. Their eyes locked. She thrust at Ray’s mouth in that begging, demanding way the body has when it takes over control and seeks release and satisfaction. Ray struggled, pulling back, trying to free himself; a silent struggle for they knew that too much noise could bring unwelcome participants to this tryst, such as the police.
Samantha’s legs ached, not in the same way as her need ached, but the ache of fatigue. Ray’s strength would wear her down and her need for release would break her concentration.
Samantha gave up on intellectualising her way through her predicament and let some forgotten animalistic sense take over. She threw herself into a frenzy, thrusting at Ray’s face, hard enough that her mound rubbed against his chin and mouth, barely protected by the thin fabric that covered her. Arousal drove her fury, subsiding only partly at the realization that she had brought the exquisite Italian stud to his knees, causing him to pant his words, ‘OK. OK.’
Trembling, on the cusp of release, yet not satisfied, Samantha looked down, past her heaving breasts, at the man she held in a trembling grasp between her legs. What, she wondered caused the trembling? fatigue? or a mounting climax that she almost feared because her need for it had become so strong? Hands tied to a hook in the wall, she held at her disposal the most incredible man she’d ever laid eyes on.
‘Do not deny me!’
With a look that Samantha couldn’t quite identify, Ray’s hands slid up around her hips, pulling the thong to one side, allowing him to bring his lips to her fevered swollen labia. Words escaped her in deep gasps.
‘Do as I say!’
Ray nodded.
‘Tongue me.’
Ray’s tongue parted the folds of her lips
‘Stroke my nipples.’
Ray’s hands rose up along her stomach, cupping her breasts, pulling down the bra; alternately flicking each nipple with a strong finger, then deftly stroking the sides of them with his thumb and rolling them between thumb and forefinger. Samantha shuddered, the mound between her legs vibrating against Ray’s lips
‘Lick my clit.’
The tip of Ray’s tongue ran up the full length of her lips, searching under the little hood, finding that swollen button of flesh, ready to explode.
‘Suck on it.’
Ray drew Samantha’s clit into his mouth, then released it. Flicked it with his tongue, then drew it in again, repeating, perhaps knowing that Samantha would issue no more commands; only pleading, mounting moans that would soon erupt in screams.
When Samantha reached that eruption, Ray rose up, filling her. His mouth over hers, he swallowed her screams, enough so that the clerks might not hear. Wave after wave of climax flowed through Samantha as she thrust against his rock-hard desire for her, absorbing his own spasms of release. When their mutual climaxes had finally subsided, they clung to each other, for long moments, gasping for breath, grasping for a hold on the r
eal world.
Gazing into each others eyes, as Samantha had with other lovers, yet not with the same knowledge that something profound had been shared, Ray found words first.
‘Well, that certainly was different!’
Stocking Fetish
by Eva Hore
My flat mate Sarah and I have a great relationship. We tell each other everything, which is why I came to wonder what she was up to when I accidentally saw all these sexy stockings and underwear, in her bedroom drawer. OK, I admit it. I was snooping. Anyway, she’d met this new guy, Ricky, and was very secretive about him. She was hardly ever home now so when I heard that he had to stay over for the weekend while his house was being painted, I was pleased I’d finally get to meet him.
The problem was though, that she wouldn’t share him. Wouldn’t even let me talk to him. They locked themselves up in her bedroom, hardly came out at all. Intrigued, I decided to spy on them. They rushed out to have dinner at some fancy restaurant. Sarah was wearing the highest heels I’ve ever seen, fish-net stockings, and a red leather, skin-tight dress.
I decided to plant my video camera on a tripod at her bedroom window. It had a remote control panel, so after hooking it into my television, I waited anxiously for their return. Sarah and I had talked often about our sexual fantasies and discussed boyfriends truthfully, which was why I was so annoyed that she wouldn’t tell me anything about Ricky. The longer I sat and wondered, the more my mind wandered, until I was desperate for some action. Fortunately I didn’t have too long to wait. They burst through her bedroom door, their hands all over each other. He whipped off her dress and threw it to the floor.
Fuck! I’ve seen her nearly naked before, coming in and out of the shower but never like this. She was fucking gorgeous. She had on a black leather garter belt which had her fish-net stockings hooked into it, a tiny matching G-string, that hugged the crack of her sexy arse, and this absolutely hot push-up bra that had her tits practically spilling out of their cups.
She was taller than him in her stilettos and he pushed her up against her bedroom door, ravishing her body with kisses. He worked his way down, pulling her tits from their cups so they hung over where he suckled at her breasts. Then he was inching his way down, kissing her everywhere as he went.
When his face was level with her mound, her pulled her panties out wide and somehow managed to bury his face inside them. She held the material over him, rubbing it against his cheeks as he licked at her pussy, his hands digging into the tops of her stockings.
With one hard tug her pulled away from her and ripped her panties straight off, taking them in his hand to bring to his mouth and suck on the crutch. She, in the meantime, pulled the hood back from her clit and, after dipping her fingers inside what I imagined would be her ultra-hot cunt, smeared the juices over the nub and began to rub.
Fuck, just watching them had me creaming my own panties. I pulled them off quickly, never taking my eyes from the screen. I wished I’d thought to place in a tape. I could have recorded it and watched it whenever I felt like it, but if she ever found out, well, that would be the end of our friendship.
I dipped my fingers into my pussy, loving the feel of my silky juices as they slipped in and out while I continued to watch. Ricky was peeling off his shirt. Man, what a torso. He was rippling with muscles and when he dropped his trousers and jocks and his cock sprung forth, my eyes nearly popped.
He had the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.
He picked Sarah up and carried her to the bed, throwing her down on it. I was pleased as I could get a better view from this angle. I could hear giggling through the wall but not what they were saying. She lunged for his cock and sucked it deep into her mouth. With both hands on her face he guided her so he was fucking her mouth while she looked up adoringly at him.
No wonder they were always in the bedroom!
Pulling her face away, his cock dropped a fraction, bobbing in front of him, as saliva dripped from the knob. She lay down and opened her legs for him and he dived in between them. She in the meantime was caressing her own breasts, pulling at the nipples, squeezing them so they stood firm and erect.
I grabbed my breast beneath my T-shirt and massaged roughly. I pulled the nipples, wishing desperately that my boyfriend was in here with me. Ricky was eating her as though starved, nuzzling in, poking between her cheeks at her puckered hole.
Then he was inching down her body, kissing her thighs, her claves, her ankles and feet. He lifted one ankle and rested it in the palm of his hand. Undoing the strap he very slowly withdrew her foot from the shoe and rubbed it against his cock. She placed her other foot into his groin and rubbed in hard. He knocked her leg away and slapped her pussy with the flat of the shoe a few times. Her legs fell open wider, as though wanting more.
Man, I never would have thought she’d be into that sort of thing. Slapping my pussy had never entered my mind. He discarded the shoe and looked at her wolfishly, licking his lips and saying something that had her laughing loudly.
Lowering his head, he licked at the stocking, nibbling at her instep. She laughed, pulling her foot back away from him but he hung on tight, taking her toes to his mouth and then sucking them.
I’ve never seen anyone do that before. I’d heard about stocking fetishes but didn’t know anyone who was into it. Sarah certainly must have been because her hand stole down between her thighs and she fiddled with her pussy, clearly loving what he was doing.
Ricky continued to suck on her toes, while her other foot travelled up to his groin. She dug the heel into him as he undid the strapping on this shoe too, allowing it to rub up against him before flipping it from her foot. She knocked his cock with her shoeless foot, trying to grab at it with her toes. He held it there, guiding it all over his shaft and balls. I gasped as I saw his cock grow even bigger.
Fuck, the guy was built like a stallion.
This went on for some time before he finally released her leg, dropping it to the bed. She spread them open, displaying herself for him. His knob was purple, pulsating with blood, as he grabbed it in his palm and guided it to her but instead of fucking her with it, he pulled at one of the stockings, tearing it from the garter and rubbed his cock against it.
Ripping it from her leg, he pulled the stocking over his shaft, covering the knob and bunching it up at his balls. She pulled him closer, guiding it into her opening. He pushed in and his head fell back, his arse cheeks clenched and contracted as he began to fuck her.
Sarah’s legs wrapped themselves around his back and she kicked her heels into his arse, urging him on, wanting him to fuck her harder. I watched mesmerized as her fingernails raked down his back, leaving bright red welts wherever they went. She clawed at him, wild with lust as he slammed into her.
I rubbed my clit, wanting desperately to come, pleased when I did that it didn’t take as long as usual. I stripped off my clothes, opened my window in the hope of hearing them, and naked, lay back on the bed, my eyes scanning my room for something to use, as I don’t have a dildo.
I made a mental note to buy one tomorrow. In the meantime Sarah was now straddling Ricky. He was laying on his back, his magnificent cock high in her pussy. She undid her bra and dropped her massive breasts. He crushed them together, nuzzling into her cleavage as she rode him slowly.
Pulling her forward, so he could nibble at a nipple, made her arse spread, pointing straight at the camera. Her puckered hole winked at me as his hand stole around and he began to inch a finger in slowly. She leaned in further, squashing her breasts against him, grinding her pussy down into his groin until he’d inserted a finger down to the knuckle. From nowhere a dildo appeared and now he inched that into her hole.
I looked at my dressing table and spied a bottle of deodorant. I retrieved it quickly and opened my bedside drawer. I slathered it with lubricating cream that I kept inside for emergencies. Lying on my side, with my knees drawn up, I began to rub it against my own hole. I could still see them and saw that the dildo had nearly di
sappeared inside her.
She was thrashing about and then, knocking his hand away, she pulled the dildo out and threw it onto across the room. She placed her hands on the wall and began to ride him, slamming down into his groin, wild with desire. Her head thrashed from side to side, her hair flinging about wildly. She was like a crazy woman, fucking him hard until he flipped her over in one go, still impaled on him, and fucked her, pummelling into her until sweat flew in every direction from the two of them.
Now I could hear them through the wall. They were screaming, screaming that they were coming. I wasn’t surprised: amazed that anyone could last as long as they had.
Me, I now had the bottle in my pussy, while rubbing my clit madly. It wasn’t enough though. I wanted more. Needed a man to make me come like a woman. Finally, Ricky pulled his cock out and sprayed his come all over her breasts. She fell back, her hands caressing it into her flesh, her hair plastered to her face before collapsing against him. He lay there prostrate, his chest rising and falling, his cock flaccid, hanging on the side of his thigh like a huge cobra, still thick, still oozing come.
I picked up the phone beside my bed and rang my boyfriend Frank.
‘You still want to do a threesome?’ I asked breathlessly.
‘What?’ he spluttered, obviously disbelieving.
‘A threesome. I thought you wanted to do it, baby?’ I asked, as throatily and sultry as I could.
‘Fuck, yeah,’ he laughed. ‘You bet.’
‘Then get your arse over here. We need to talk and I feel like a fuck,’ I giggled.
‘I’ll be there in a flash,’ he said.
I hung up and peered at the screen. Sarah and Ricky were at it again. Fuck, he was horny. I remembered that about a year ago Sarah had asked me if I’d ever be interested in a threesome and at the time I’d said no. Well, now that I’ve seen her in action, it was time to take her up on it. And with any luck we’d end up having a foursome, with that stallion of hers, Ricky.
I could hardly wait for Frank. My pussy was tingling with anticipation and as soon as he walked in my bedroom door and saw me naked on the bed we were at it like two dogs on heat.
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