Can't Get Enough

by Tenille Brown

  Blake took her coat and draped it neatly next to him, helping her slide in across the leather, and the hostess departed.

  “Thank you, Little Blake.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her use of his pet name, the name she reserved for when they were alone together. When he was wearing his collar and not much else. His dark, shaggy hair fell into his eyes and she smiled.

  “It’s my pleasure, Mistress,” he murmured.

  God, he was so cute. Absolutely adorable, and all hers.

  Victoria took her house keys from her purse and rolled them in her hand, enjoying the expression on his handsome young face. Enjoyed making him wonder what she was going to do, here, now.

  At the restaurant.

  With a manipulated clumsy gesture, she let the keys fall from her fingers and under the table.

  “Get the keys.”

  Blake obeyed immediately, ducking beneath the table. But when he started to rise, she stopped him with a pinch to his lean, muscular shoulder.

  And so he remained under the table as the waiter approached them.

  “What can I get you?” the man asked. He wasn’t nearly as sweet and subservient as Blake had been when she first met him, when he’d waited on her at the diner. Too bad.

  “My partner forgot something, but he’ll be back. In the meantime, I’d like to order just for myself. I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, and I’m starving for something…satisfying.”

  “Sounds good,” the waiter said, and took her order of a carafe of red wine and grilled chicken.

  When he was gone, Victoria put her hand under the table, tangling her fingers in Blake’s hair. He didn’t say a word when she pulled his hair sharply, but she could tell by his shoulders that he’d arranged himself on his knees, the way he normally did at her feet.

  “Too bad Blake won’t get to eat anything tonight,” she said quietly, as if to herself. “Then again, he does need to eat something.”

  At her words, she could practically feel his grin from under the table.

  He maneuvered his body between her legs. She wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath her skirt, and already her pussy dampened at the thought of him readying himself to service her.

  The waiter returned with her wine, and she smiled and thanked him as she pressed her stiletto heel into the tender flesh of Blake’s ass—at least it felt like where his ass was, based on how her legs were positioned.

  No sound. The boy was good.

  She took a deep sip of the wine, letting it wash away her day, and willed herself to relax into the moment. After all, she had a very willing slave between her legs, ready to spend as much time as necessary to pleasure her.

  For all he knew, her pussy would be his only meal this evening. The thought made her smile.

  Blake reached tentatively between her legs, running his strong hands along the sensitive skin on her inner thighs. A shudder of desire coursed through her, but she focused on the wine, taking another sip.

  Now. Lick me now.

  But he was taking his sweet time, carefully spreading her nether lips, stroking her clit with his fingers. Did he deserve another pinch?

  And then, his mouth. Hot and wet, his tongue covered her shaved pussy, licking her slowly.

  Another sip of wine.

  Everything about the moment aroused her. The public place, the unaware patrons mere feet away from them, and the feel of his hair tickling the inside of her thighs.

  She inhaled sharply and pulled her phone out, scrolling through her email so that she wouldn’t look strange sitting by herself. There was no way to keep her face completely neutral, not with his mouth on her pussy, his lips pressing against—Ahh fuck yeah—and so she pretended to be working while she waited for her food.

  This time, when the waiter returned, she pressed her heel into Blake even harder, willing him to keep going, keep going. He did, and the waiter served her the chicken and left.

  The fork slipped from her grasp as Blake sucked her clit into his mouth, gently nibbling it, giving her everything he had.

  But she lifted her silverware again and cut her food, sliding a piece of chicken in a delicious sauce past her lips.

  “That tastes so good,” she murmured. “I wish Blake could taste this.”

  He responded by licking her with even more fervor, her thighs spread beneath the tablecloth, held apart with his hands, and she pinched him to remind him to slow down, to take his time.

  After all, the meal was quite good. She had a lot of emails to answer. She could be there for a while until the appropriate time for Blake to “return” from his absence presented itself.

  The thought of Blake under the table, not knowing how long he’d be there, locked between her thighs, brought on a wave of pleasure, and she closed her legs around him, holding him in place.

  He licked her the way she’d trained him, with reverence and hunger, and she came hard, silently, controlling herself so that she wouldn’t give away their game.

  She poured another glass of wine and took another sip. Delicious.

  Every meal should be like this, she mused.

  Blake waited patiently at her feet while she ate a few more bites of her meal, letting her sensitive post-climactic clit take a moment, before she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scraping her nails across his scalp and along his ears.

  How was he doing, during all of this? With a slight movement, as if crossing her legs or shifting her weight, Victoria slid one stiletto off and ran her naked foot over his muscular leg, until she found his cock.

  He was so hard it had to be painful. The thought appealed.

  She slowly, tortuously, rubbed her foot against the rigid length, just long enough to feel his breath panting desperately against her pussy, and then she stopped.

  Blake pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and she smiled. He must want to come so badly, but it didn’t matter. Tonight was about her. And since it pleased her, she’d torture his hard cock as much as she wanted to without letting him come.

  Very carefully, she slipped her heel back on, and ran the sharp stiletto along his cock, letting Blake feel her power over him.

  “We’re not done,” she said softly, so only he could hear, and pinched his shoulder again.

  He took the cue and went back at it, licking her clit with a longing so intense she had to force herself to eat her meal while he sucked her or she’d come again too quickly.

  Her muscles quivered as he continued, an enormous pressure building within her until she climaxed, holding Blake so tightly with her legs she imagined she was cutting off his oxygen supply.

  When he’d drawn out every last moment of her orgasm, she took another sip of wine, and checked the time on her phone. She looked around. No one was looking their way.

  “Okay,” she said, and gave him a playful kick.

  “I found the keys, Ma’am,” Blake said as he slid back up into the booth, holding them in his hand. His hair was disheveled, and he looked like the college kid he was. Adorable.

  And all hers.

  “Oh yes,” she smiled. “You most definitely did.”

  FAMOUS LAST WORDS

  Tenille Brown

  I’m tired of kissing your ass!”

  Ralph was pulling his black T-shirt down over his flat, fuzzy abdomen, his gray eyes scanning the room for his belongings.

  They were ugly words coming from such sexy lips, but Macy wasn’t surprised. Ralph was quick tempered just like she was, which was probably why they weren’t going to make it for the long haul.

  Macy first folded her lips, and then she bit down on them hard. She wanted to tell Ralph that she had never asked him to kiss her ass and she wouldn’t let him do it now, anyway, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response.

  As she stood in the bedroom, Macy’s ass was naked and chilly, as they had been in the middle of a pretty good fuck when the argument started.

  One wrong word was all it took—that’s all it ever took w
ith Macy—and she was storming out of the bedroom in a rage.

  She didn’t care who didn’t get their orgasm.

  “Sometimes, I swear, Macy, you’re just not worth the trouble,” he had said in the middle of sliding his cock between her hungry lips.

  All because she had asked him to shift a little, and lean back a little more, and that had been it. Ralph had gone from zero to one hundred in an instant.

  And Macy let him. Now she stepped aside and opened the door for him.

  She said, “Get the fuck out, Ralph.”

  Ralph opened his mouth, and then he closed it again. Then he walked out, the buckle on his still loosened jeans clanging loudly.

  Ralph was a drummer Macy had met at an indie concert during the summer and to both her surprise and his, he had managed to stick around five months. But today he had just walked his last walk with her.

  Before Ralph, of course, there had been Juan, and before that, Sly.

  But every time, they had done something, they had all done or said something to fuck it all up.

  Some people said Macy’s patience was short, or she was too choosy, or nitpicky, but Macy knew that she was simply a no-nonsense type of girl. On her own in New York City since the age of nineteen, she’d had no choice.

  Now, at twenty-seven, Macy had made her way in this city and no way was she turning back.

  She didn’t need a man’s money. She had her job at the bookstore for that. She didn’t need his dick. She had an impressive collection of vibrators for that. She didn’t even need the company.

  Macy was just fine, and she had every intention of remaining that way.

  For emphasis, Macy pushed the door closed with all her might so that it slammed hard behind him, then she flung her tired, bare ass onto the sofa.

  And it was in that moment between the door swinging shut and Macy hearing that telltale click and her ass making contact with the firm pillows of her chair that she realized that Ralph had forgotten something.

  And she had forgotten something.

  They had forgotten something. And it rested just inside the shallow cavity of her curvy, white ass.

  It wasn’t foreign to Macy to fuck on the last day of the relationship. It was simply breakup sex. But she hadn’t actually planned to dump Ralph today, which was why she let him do that…that thing in the first place.

  Sure she had been curious, too, and she had rather enjoyed it, but Ralph had made the mistake of talking before they were completely finished and before she knew it, Macy had blown her top and asked him to leave.

  Now she was stuck in her apartment alone, with a ten-inch string of pearls tucked inside her ass.

  It was funny how the pearls weren’t that uncomfortable until now; she wasn’t as blatantly aware of their presence until she was stuck alone with them.

  Macy knew the beads were harmless enough, but suddenly she felt as if she were sitting on a stick of dynamite. One tug and they’d explode.

  Which meant she couldn’t exactly run down the stairs and chase after him. She couldn’t even imagine walking the ten or so feet to her bedroom to try to do it herself.

  Of course, if she could do it herself, she could do so right here in her own living room, but she couldn’t. They were wedged pretty far. Macy knew, because she had specifically asked for it that way.

  She had been looking forward to the sensation of having them pulled from between her cheeks, the feeling of each bead popping through her anus as Ralph gently tugged.

  Macy had to do something. She was getting worried now.

  So she picked up the telephone and dialed Ralph’s number.

  “What?” Ralph asked.

  And his voice was cold, colder than Macy had ever had ever heard it before. She was tempted to hang up the phone, but she was reminded by the tingling at the base of her anus that she couldn’t do that just yet.

  “Hi,” Macy said. “I just wanted to call and apologize.”

  Ralph sighed. “Fuck that, Macy, you never apologize. Not for shit. Now, what in the hell do you want? I left your key on the fucking counter, if that’s the reason.”

  “No, it’s not that, Ralph. I…”

  “I’m hanging up now, Macy.”

  “No!” Macy screamed into the phone. “Ralph, we forgot about the goddamned beads!”

  “This was supposed to be fun.”

  Macy said this as she got into position, leaning over the back of her love seat.

  “It is fun, for me. Well, funny, that is,” Ralph said.

  There Macy was biting her tongue again. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say, not until these beads were out of her ass and Ralph was out of her apartment.

  She was only naked from the waist down, but she felt as if her tanned body were fully exposed to her newly ex-boyfriend.

  “Spread your legs,” Ralph said.

  Macy looked back over her shoulder at Ralph. “What?”

  Ralph sucked his teeth. “You have to spread ’em. You know how this works, Macy.”

  Macy pushed her legs apart, propping herself up on her elbows.

  “Now try and relax, because since you hate me now, it probably won’t feel as good as it would have.”

  She knew Ralph was relishing standing there over her, knowing he had the power and all the control over her. She didn’t have many friends, and especially none that she trusted enough to pull anything out of her ass.

  So Macy had to stifle it all just this once, until Ralph did what she needed.

  Ralph started with the first two beads, which gave Macy such a sense of relief that her exhale blew the hair away from her face.

  “Is it wrong of me to want to know how it feels?” Ralph asked.

  Macy could have sworn his voice had gone soft, as if he was trying to sound sexy or something.

  Her patience was wearing thin, but she was in a rather compromising…position. “No, Ralph, I suppose it wouldn’t be so wrong.”

  “Well, then,” Ralph said, “tell me.”

  Macy thought for a while. Then she answered, “It feels relieving and relaxing.”

  “And what else?’

  “And painful and pleasant.”

  “And?”

  “And I want it to be over, but I don’t.” Macy was mindlessly grinding now, her elbows and knees digging into the cushions.

  Ralph gently tugged, releasing one bead at a time.

  “I can tell you what it looks like, if you want to know,” Ralph said, still tugging.

  “Go on. Tell me.”

  “They look small and shiny slipping from between your cheeks. Your ass looks round and perfect holding on to the dangling string.”

  “You always did exaggerate. And for the record, no one will ever mistake you for a poet.”

  “Duly noted,” Ralph said and he added, “We’re almost there.”

  Macy briefly questioned the word “we,” but when Ralph accidentally brushed up against her thigh, she suddenly realized what he meant.

  Macy was wet and Ralph was hard.

  And coinciding with this realization came the exit of the final bead from Macy’s anus. Her knees buckled in an unfamiliar mixture of pleasure and relief.

  Ralph handed her the wet, white strand of pearls. Macy looked at them strangely before she took them from him and tossed them on the cushion.

  “What?” Macy asked when she noticed him lingering.

  “One for the road?” Ralph asked, while reaching up to pull her damp hair away from her freckled face.

  Macy shrugged as nonchalantly as she could and said, “Sure, why not?”

  After all it was just breakup sex, just Ralph stripping off his clothes and lying her across the love seat facedown to fuck her from behind.

  However, it was no ordinary fuck. It was no doggy-style romp. From the feel of things, Ralph was going to fuck Macy in the ass.

  She found herself biting into the velvety material when he entered her, and clenching her eyes shut as she tried not to tighten up around his coc
k.

  Macy might have let herself be more vulnerable if she didn’t detest him so much in this moment. She became angry again thinking about the way he spoke to her and the ugly words he used.

  The angrier Macy became, the harder she pushed her ass against Ralph’s cock. She pushed back so hard on her knees that she knocked Ralph nearly off balance and he reached out to hold on to the back of the chair.

  Ralph smacked her on the side of her hip. “Still mad, eh?”

  “Fuck you,” Macy managed as her body began to vibrate.

  “No, fuck you,” Ralph said, and pushed his cock in farther.

  Macy couldn’t recall a sweeter pain. She couldn’t remember a time when she wanted to come so bad and had to work so hard to hold it back.

  Following some sort of twisted instinct, Ralph reached down and around and placed his fingers on Macy’s cunt. He began viciously pressing and rubbing against her clit while he continued to ass-fuck her.

  Macy bit down on her pillow, her expensive pillow that she had almost thrown at Ralph before he walked out the door.

  She was coming and she couldn’t wait. She grabbed on to the arm of the love seat, pressing her fingers so firmly into the material that her knuckles turned red.

  Ralph laughed that stupid laugh of his.

  “I feel you all over my fingers,” he said. Then, “It’s okay because here I come, too….”

  Ralph burst steaming lava inside of her ass. There was so much that it leaked onto her cheeks and streamed slowly down the backs of her thighs.

  “What a fuck of a lay,” Ralph exhaled, and got up to get dressed.

  “By the way,” Macy said. “If you did want to kiss my ass, that would have been your one and only chance because you’ll never see it again.”

  Ralph shook his head slowly as he opened the door.

  He said, “You’ve got the best ass I’ve ever seen in my life, Macy. But, I swear, it’s not worth the trouble.”

  “Go to hell!” Macy said, and slammed the door shut in his face.

  OBJECTS OF DESIRE

  Annabeth Leong

  Samantha talked about shoving household objects up her cunt when she needed to get Brandon off quickly. When they fucked late at night, blurry and achy in the eyes, her made-up account of sticking a rolling pin inside herself could transform his dutiful, habitual motions to urgent, explosive thrusts.