Extreme Passions

by Extreme Passions [Bold Strokes FF] (retail) (epub)

  Her lips and tongue consumed me, causing a maelstrom of emotions. I slid my hands up under her skirt and gripped the sides of her large, firm thighs. They felt even better than in my imagination. I pushed my hand between her legs, forcing them apart, and stroked the softness of her inner thigh. When she pulled back with a pant, I knew that I had her. That it was my turn to smile and lick my lips. The power was heady, and I wanted to draw the moment out, but couldn’t.

  I dropped to my knees and lifted the short, full skirt that had been tantalizing me for too long. Leaning close to her crotch, I inhaled the scent of her desire. At that moment, I needed it more than I needed air. I got so hard it hurt, tempting me to slip my hand into my fly. It would only take me a minute to relieve the ache. My clit twitched at the thought, but my head overruled. I was too close to tasting my first pussy and I wanted all my senses focused on that.

  With one hand, I peeled down her incredibly small bikini panties, liking the trail of wetness left on her inner thighs. She was wet because of me, and my heart almost stopped. I parted her wet lips, eager to get to the slick, hard center. Finally. It was the most beautiful sight—pink and glistening with her desire. I tried to sear the picture of her into my memory for later recall. This was what I had been waiting eighteen years to experience.

  I took her pulsing clit in my mouth, sucking hard. I moaned against her skin when her hand grabbed my dreds and pulled me closer.

  “Yeah baby, lick me,” she commanded, grinding against my mouth.

  I wanted my first time to last, but she was too ready. And damn it, so was I. I didn’t have any experience, so I licked her like a Tootsie Pop, using the broadness of my tongue for full effect.

  “Harder.”

  Grabbing hold of her butt, I pulled her even closer. I increased the pressure, wiggling my tongue for friction. Much too soon her thighs tightened as she rode my mouth. I heard a straining sound followed by a hiss that seemed to go on forever. Her body trembled so hard, I grabbed her hips to keep her from falling. But even that didn’t stop me from continuing to lap up her come.

  She tugged on my hair, but I resisted, giving in to the urge to rub my face against her wetness, coating it with the proof of my prowess. I felt like a conquering Amazon. She tugged harder, forcing me to leave my haven of sensory overload before I was ready.

  Before I could think, she yanked me up and brought my mouth to hers. She seemed to enjoy the taste of herself on my tongue and lips.

  “It’s your turn, baby.” She pressed me to the door and ran a hand from my lips to my crotch. My hips pumped wildly against the air, seeking relief. In a matter of seconds, she unbuttoned my jeans and opened my fly.

  I felt the familiar quivering in my belly and prayed I would last at least until she touched me. A gasp escaped my lips as she palmed me. The pleasure was almost unbearable. Her hand moved past the opening of my boxers to my dripping sex. I lurched as she placed a finger on either side of my distended shaft and squeezed several times.

  That’s all it took. The roaring pressure within me exploded into brightness. I banged the back of my head against the door, my body consumed by orgasm. I don’t think my brain had time to realize what my body was doing. But she did. Her mouth covered mine, muffling my shout.

  Wrecked, I twisted my mouth away and sucked in oxygen. I had this crazy sensation that I’d just blown the top of my head off. The one attached to my neck, that is.

  She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into her twinkling brown eyes. “Home,” she purred, arching one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I’m not finished with you yet.” She bit my earlobe lightly.

  My body clenched and I almost came again. I reached to pull her closer. I wasn’t finished with her either. I wanted to worship every inch of her skin with my tongue and feel her spasm against my fingers.

  She twisted away with a sexy laugh. “Not here. I want you naked and I want to take my time. I know a stud like you can hang, right?”

  My legs turned to jelly. “Yeah,” I squeaked and quickly clamped my mouth shut. When I tried for a tough-looking nod, she gave me another one of her knowing smiles. We both knew who was in control. She owned me, and I knew I would never be the same.

  And ten years later, thoughts of her and our first time still excite me. I stretched languorously, enjoying the hum in my lower body. Spreading my legs, I parted my lips and dipped a finger into the wetness, spreading it liberally on my clit. I rubbed lightly, not staying long enough in one place to do the job. I wanted to come, but I wanted her to make me come even more.

  I closed my eyes and sighed. Today I would stay until she came home from work—no matter the consequences, no matter the throbbing. I still needed her just that much.

  “Hey you,” a beloved voice said. “Wait for me.”

  I turned my head and there she was in the doorway, her smile still bright and knowing. I raised the thong and signaled my surrender.

  Prey

  Renée Strider

  When the discussion turned to who was single, one of the first names that came up was Kirby. Not only because she was gorgeous, but also because she was danger. They didn’t say “dangerous” but “Danger,” pronouncing it as if the word had a capital D.

  Gwyn had asked her dinner companions—her new colleague Jan, Jan’s partner Ella, and their two friends—about available women because she was new in town. And she really needed to get laid in the foreseeable future, to slide her fingers between a woman’s wet thighs other than her own, to lower her mouth to… Well, it had been quite a while and she was so ready. The celibacy of the last couple of months, what with moving and all, was interfering with her concentration on the new job. And other things. Not good.

  Gwyn looked around the table at the other women. “So why exactly—”

  “She’s lethal,” one said.

  “A predator,” her girlfriend added for good measure.

  “Yeah,” Jan said. “Stay away from her. She’ll eat you up and spit you out.” She snorted. “Literally.”

  “You should know,” Ella said, looking pointedly at her lover. “All those who haven’t had sex with her, put up your hand.”

  Not one hand went up, and they all shifted a bit uncomfortably and grinned sheepishly.

  “If we made one of those L Word charts, she’d be in the center with all the lines leading to her, like Rome.”

  They laughed uproariously, but there was more than one rueful expression.

  “Seriously.” Jan raised her eyebrows at Gwyn. “There’s something about her that’s irresistible. She’s mesmerizingly beautiful, focuses completely on her victim. Even though you know you’ll only get one time with her, you can’t help yourself and go willingly to the slaughter. Where she’ll do you like you’ve never been done before.”

  They smiled at Jan’s colorful description but groaned and nodded, because it was also true. As they described Kirby in more detail, a tendril of arousal brushed through Gwyn’s stomach. Kirby sounded hot—muscular but not too cut, black eyes, and short, dark hair. She rode a motorcycle and liked to wear leather. And if she wanted you, you knew it right away because her eyes told you before anything else.

  “Does she ever come here?” Gwyn asked.

  “Sometimes to the bar on the weekend,” Ella answered. “We’re giving a party on Saturday, and she’ll probably be there. She always comes alone but never leaves alone. Just watch out, Gwyn, because you’re her favorite type. As tall as her, but blond and fair—it’s the contrast, the antithesis to herself. She likes that. There’ll be other single women there, though, so you should come.”

  I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Gwyn thought, and barely listened as the women continued talking about other friends who were unattached and looking.

  Gwyn’s mood during the rest of the week was one of high anticipation. The erotic buzz in her belly rarely left her. At night she conjured up various scenarios of sex with the intriguing though faceless Kirby, moaning into the darkness as she stroked herself. In the mo
rning she was still wet from encounters that continued in her dreams.

  On the evening of the party she dressed with care, creating the look that she hoped would attract someone like Kirby—a royal blue silk shirt with short sleeves and pearl grey linen trousers. The pants draped loosely in the legs but fit snugly over her butt, with no back pockets to mar the round curves. She deepened the bare vee between her breasts even more by leaving two buttons undone. The blouse itself was short, not tucked in, and exactly the same color as her eyes. Then she brushed her short, platinum hair back behind her ears and applied the merest hint of blue eye shadow and a bright red slash of lipstick.

  Finally, she stood back and examined herself in the mirror, smiling confidently. Mmm, elegant. If I were Kirby I’d want me. Just the addition of a fine chain at her throat, thin as a gold hair, and she was ready to go.

  She arrived at the party early. She wanted to be there before Kirby so that when Kirby arrived she could observe her for a while unnoticed. It was a big party, divided between indoors and out. Inside the house, women danced in an open living room adjoining a glassed-in sunroom. Beyond that was the garden, where it was quieter. The rest of the crowd ate, drank, and conversed in the glow of a dozen lanterns amidst luxuriantly landscaped shrubs and trees. Jan played the good host, showing Gwyn around and introducing her.

  She was standing with a small group in the shadows under a tree, sipping red wine from a crystal glass, when a slight rise in the hum of conversation drew her attention to the French doors.

  A woman stood in the open doorway, surveying the scene intently through hooded eyes. Her stance was relaxed and easy in tight, black leather jeans and a white T-shirt tucked into the beltless waistband. Her black hair was very short and slicked back except for the wave that had fallen on her forehead. Gwyn’s gaze traveled from the sculpted features to the tanned arms and hands. Those hands were—

  “Oh my,” whispered the cute redhead beside Gwyn, interrupting her inspection.

  “I take it that’s Kirby,” Gwyn said as she stepped back a little farther into the gloom. Her heart had sped up as soon as she’d laid eyes on her. She could feel it pounding in her throat.

  “That’s her. She’s trouble.”

  “Heartbreaker?” Gwyn pretended ignorance.

  “Yeah, fuck ’em and forget ’em. And I speak from experience.” She sounded amused, though, not bitter.

  Gwyn kept to the periphery of the party a while longer, unobtrusively drinking her wine and making new acquaintances and at the same time continuing to observe Kirby. When Kirby tossed her head back, laughing at something someone said, Gwyn decided it was time to show herself. She moved casually into the light, toward the drinks table. She felt, as much as saw, Kirby’s dark gaze fasten on her immediately. By the time she had refilled her glass, the woman stood beside her. For a split second Gwyn froze, riveted by the bold and hungry expression in Kirby’s eyes.

  She cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. “I’m Gwyn.”

  “I know. I’ve been watching you. My name’s Kirby.”

  Kirby’s hand was large and warm. As she withdrew it from Gwyn’s, her long fingers brushed Gwyn’s palm. Gwyn shivered deep in her guts and for the briefest moment wondered if this was such a good idea. She was wet already and they hadn’t even started yet.

  “I know.”

  “Ah,” said Kirby with a faint smile. “Would you like to dance?” Her eyes reflected the light of the lanterns in golden shards, making Gwyn think of a hawk.

  “I would.” Gwyn left her glass on the table and led the way to the house. Everything was falling into place just as she’d hoped. Kirby was close behind her, one hand on the small of her back, burning through the thin silk. Gwyn imagined the fingers slipping down farther.

  Ella, who stood near the door, rolled her eyes surreptitiously when Gwyn glanced her way. Gwyn bit her bottom lip to keep the smile in.

  Only two other couples were dancing in the dimly lit space. Kirby placed her hands on Gwyn’s waist and pulled her tantalizingly close, but not quite enough for their bodies to touch. Gwyn circled her arms loosely around Kirby’s neck, bringing her even closer. Their nipples grazed, oh so gently, and Gwyn suppressed a moan. It was excruciating. She could feel Kirby’s piercing eyes on her face and directed her own demurely downward to avoid them. She was sure that if she looked into them as their breasts touched, she’d come on the spot.

  They swayed to music that was slow and sexy—a sultry female voice and a deep saxophone. By now they were both breathing a little hard. Gwyn inhaled Kirby’s breath. It tasted clean and sweet.

  Kirby’s hands slid slowly around to Gwyn’s ass, lightly pressing the fingers of one hand to the top of the valley between her cheeks. Gwyn felt a hard mound against her own as Kirby thrust her hips forward. Then Kirby slid her thigh between Gwyn’s, moving with the music against her swollen flesh, just firmly enough to make her crazy. Fleetingly Gwyn wondered whether she was leaving a damp smear on Kirby’s leather-clad leg. She was wet enough to.

  That thought almost brought her to the brink, and in desperation Gwyn rested her forehead on Kirby’s shoulder, struggling to rein in her out-of-control body. She would orgasm in a few seconds if she didn’t relieve the pressure on her clitoris. She shifted her hips back, away from the insistent thigh.

  “You’re so beautiful. You’re driving me insane,” Kirby crooned against Gwyn’s throat as she trailed her lips and tongue down to the hollow between her collarbones, tugging gently on the delicate chain. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Gwyn nodded wordlessly. With Kirby on her heels, she headed blindly for the front door. Outside she breathed deeply in the warm air. The moon was just a sliver. The only illumination came from the house and a street lamp halfway down the block. Cars belonging to the guests were scattered here and there on the dimly lit street, some actually inside the leafy park opposite the house.

  Kirby took Gwyn’s hand and strode across the street into the shadows. In the dark shelter of the spreading branches of an enormous tree, she once more pulled Gwyn against her, one hand on her behind, one hand on her back. She pushed her leg between Gwyn’s, harder this time, the smooth leather sliding over Gwyn’s crotch. The damp fabric of the linen trousers only added to the friction. Gwyn inserted her own thigh up against Kirby’s sex and got a deep groan in response. When their mouths came together for the first time, both women gasped. Tongues glided against and around each other, mimicking the rhythm of their hips. The force of the kiss drove Gwyn back against the tree.

  “I want to fuck you.” Kirby’s voice was hoarse against Gwyn’s throat. She wedged one hand between their bodies, undoing the button of Gwyn’s trousers and tugging the zipper down. Fingers stroked Gwyn’s abdomen, descending through the soft hairs.

  Oh God. With a shaking hand, Gwyn drew Kirby’s away. “Wait, not against the tree. The bark’s too rough.” She pulled up her zipper. “That car over there.”

  Kirby followed her dumbly. The car was well hidden in the shadowy park. It had a large hood, nicely curved on the side. Gwyn leaned back against it, one leg slightly in front of the other, opening herself to receive Kirby’s body. They fit so well together, crotch against thigh, hips rocking slowly back and forth. Gwyn shuddered as Kirby caressed the bare skin under her shirt and kissed her breasts through the silk, finding a rigid nipple with her teeth. The only sound was their panting and the distant thump-thump of the music in the house.

  “Baby, I can’t wait any longer. I want you now,” Kirby muttered as she worked on Gwyn’s zipper again. Her breathing was shallow and erratic.

  Suddenly, without warning, Gwyn pushed Kirby off, grabbed a shoulder, and shoved her from behind against the hood, pinning her with her whole body. Kirby grunted as the air was expelled from her chest. With one hand bracing herself, Gwyn drove the other hand under Kirby’s stomach with lightning speed, cupped her briefly, then unfastened the buttons of her leather pants.

  “Surprise,” she murmured, her mout
h against Kirby’s ear.

  “Are you a cop?” Kirby sounded dazed.

  Gwyn laughed. “Hardly.”

  Kirby appeared too astonished to react, although it wouldn’t have done her much good. Gwyn was stronger, and years of self-defense training made it easy for her to immobilize Kirby. Further force wasn’t even necessary. When Gwyn reached into Kirby’s pants and found the slick, swollen tissues, Kirby was helpless. She could only moan as Gwyn stroked the sides of her clitoris, avoiding the tip for now, tormenting her.

  With a guttural cry, Kirby threw her head back as Gwyn thrust farther into the wet heat. When Gwyn felt the first flutter of Kirby’s muscles tightening around her fingers, she withdrew as quickly as she’d entered her.

  “Do you want me to stop?” Gwyn teased, her lips against the corded tendons of Kirby’s neck.

  “Oh Jesus, no, don’t stop,” Kirby groaned.

  Gwyn jerked her around to face her again, then dropped to her knees in front of her. She slid the leather jeans and briefs down as far as Kirby’s low boots.

  “Kick off your boots,” Gwyn commanded in a low voice.

  Kirby did, still sprawled against the car’s hood, trembling and panting. Gwyn freed one of Kirby’s feet from the clothing. “Now spread your legs.”

  Kirby opened herself to Gwyn, angling her pelvis toward Gwyn’s face.

  With her hands gripping the backs of Kirby’s thighs, Gwyn breathed in the scent of female arousal. She’d missed it so. The sensation sent a shock through her guts straight to her clitoris.

  “Oh yes!” Kirby hissed as with a soft growl Gwyn took her into her mouth, sucking her labia and licking all along her length as she tasted her. When she was sure Kirby couldn’t last any longer, she surrounded the slippery bundle of nerves with her lips and stroked the tip with her tongue. Kirby came immediately. As Gwyn heard the strangled shout and felt her go rigid, she came, too, her clit exploding without being touched.