Carrie likes this leading man a lot. When one of my classes was canceled because the prof was sick, I got back to the dorm earlier than usual and found Carrie in her bunk, naked, with her legs spread wide. She was tugging her left nipple. It was an inch long and so stiff it looked like a pinkie sticking up. She was rubbing her pussy with the other hand. She didn’t hear me come in because she was wearing headphones. The volume was so high that I recognized the CD as the soundtrack from Mr. X’s latest movie. She kept saying his name over and over like a mantra, lost in her own little world.
Any guy on campus would have died to be in my shoes then. Carrie is really pretty, with dark hair and big brown eyes. What the boys like best, though, is that she has exceedingly large breasts for so petite a girl. The first time we got undressed in front of each other, I kidded that if law school didn’t pan out, she could always work as a lingerie model. Her nipples also drew attention. I once told her that no matter what type of bra she wore, they stuck out like thimbles.
“I don’t think any guy I’ve talked to since puberty has looked me in the eye,” she said.
Considering how prominent her nipples were in “neutral,” it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that they were even more impressive when excited, as they certainly were now. She wasn’t exactly being dainty with them, either. Seeing that alone would have got anybody going, but what was going on south of the border was even hotter.
Carrie and I talk about everything, and early on we compared notes about pussy grooming. She said she was lucky because she never got razor stubble when she shaved her bikini line. Judging by what I saw that day, her shaving went a lot further than a little “edging.” Her legs were wide open. She had two fingertips pressed against her mound above the slit of her pussy, making quick circles, so that most of her cunt was visible. I didn’t see a single hair on it. Her pussy lips were shiny with juice and gaping open. She dipped a finger into her pussy opening, wormed it around a little, then went back to rubbing her mound.
She opened her eyes, and I thought she’d spot me. But she stared straight up at her poster without glancing left or right, straight into the clear blue eyes of her dream man. She kept whispering his name. She bucked her bare crotch, climaxed, then rolled over, gasping for air. I hurried out of the room, stayed away for a half-hour, and never mentioned what I had seen. Until now, that is. That’s what Carrie gets for making me write this letter! Anyhow, to get back to the story:
We’re in the Bahamas, and Carrie hears that Mr. X is staying down the road from us. She tried getting into the place, but security was too tight. So she took her camera and staked the place out, hoping he would eventually leave the resort to see more of the island. I thought she was nuts, so I hung out with friends from school while she played spy. Two days later she spotted him and his girlfriend leaving the resort. She managed to follow them on a rented motorbike. When they parked near a sign that read “Private Beach” and got out, she ditched the bike and threaded her way through the undergrowth to get some photos.
That night Carrie wore a dazed grin when she described the scene. “At first I saw them playing in the water, which was about waist high. Nobody else was around. His girlfriend was topless, but I didn’t think that was any big deal, since that’s cool at a lot of beaches. But when they walked back to their towels, I saw that both of them were totally naked. Totally!”
“Well, come on, what’s he got?” I asked.
Carrie all but swooned. “You wouldn’t believe. You just wouldn’t believe! His body was like a Greek statue, all toned and muscular and smooth, and his dick looked like it was a foot long. I know it probably wasn’t, but it looked huge!”
“Circumcised?”
“Oh, yeah. With a big, smooth head. His balls were drawn up tight against his body, which made his dick look even bigger. I wanted to run out of the bushes and offer to be his love slave for life.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Well, his girlfriend started sucking his dick. I didn’t think he’d appreciate being disturbed.”
My mouth practically dropped open. “And you’ve got pictures of this?”
“That’s not all. After she blew him—and she did one hell of a job, taking the whole thing down her throat—she lay down and he fucked her. I got so wet watching them that I was dripping.”
She said Mr. X alternated fucking the girl and pulling out to eat her pussy every few minutes. Carrie admitted that she was so turned on watching Mr. X make his lover cry out and come that she reached inside her khaki shorts to finger-fuck herself. “I couldn’t help it,” she said. “If you could have seen the way his tight butt flexed when he pumped in and out of her body, you would have done the same thing.”
I smiled, but I didn’t mention the time that I had seen Carrie fiddling with herself in our dorm room. If his poster alone had been enough to work her into that frenzy, I could imagine how overwhelming the sight of him in the flesh—and only the flesh— must have been.
“The last part nearly made me pass out,” Carrie said. “When he was ready to come, he pulled out of her pussy and held his big, beautiful dick in one hand. He was up to his knees in the sand. The girl scrambled around to suck him, jerking her hand up and down the length of his prick the whole time. He groaned so loud I could hear him from twenty feet away. She tried to swallow his come, but a lot of it dribbled out of her mouth. God, it was so sexy I could have died.”
“I’m surprised you could keep on taking pictures!”
She waved her camera in the air. “It’s all right here. My God, can you imagine what this film is worth?”
I told her she should keep the roll in a safe place until she could get it developed. She agreed that was a good idea, and opened the back of the camera.
Did I mention that Carrie is a scatterbrain? Tears formed in her eyes when she looked down at the camera. She had forgotten to load it! Just then, we heard a jet pass over our hotel. Somehow, we both knew who was on it.—T.P., Fort Collins, Colorado
A HORNY HONEY WHO IS SCORNED GOES FROM FORLORN TO REBORN
I was supposed to be meeting my boyfriend Chad at a club. Other guys hit on me for more than an hour before I admitted to myself that the son of a bitch had stood me up. It wasn’t the first time. Chad was a workaholic whose job came first, last and always. I was so pissed, I felt like fucking the next man who asked me to dance. I had had a shitty day at work and I was horny as a cat in heat. I needed to get off really bad.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. This is it, I thought, putting on a smile before I turned around. This was going to be somebody’s lucky night. With any luck, he wouldn’t look anything like Chad.
That turned out not to be a problem.
“Hi, I’m Ashley,” said a petite girl with huge eyes and a short, gamine haircut. “I wondered if you might want to dance.”
This was a new one. I had never been approached by a girl— not one like this. She didn’t have a necklace that spelled out “dyke” or a lambda tattoo, but it was obvious she was interested in more than just dancing. She was really pretty, and not at all butch. Her top was shiny purple velvet, held up by two thin spaghetti straps. Her breasts were small, but with plump protruding nipples. Her black jeans were tight on her slender legs. An image flashed into my mind—of this girl on her back in bed, naked, with another woman’s face between her legs, licking her pussy, tasting it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t—” I began.
She cut me off. “I noticed you turned down all the guys who asked you, so I thought, you know.” She nudged me with a bare shoulder and gave me a conspiratorial grin. I looked around. I hadn’t spotted anyone I recognized at this club since getting here. No one I knew would be the wiser.
“Come on.” Ashley took my hand and led me to the dance floor. I swallowed the rest of my drink and put my glass back down on the bar. The thought that kept going through my head as we danced was, “Why not?” I was sick to death of Chad. Maybe it was time to expand my horiz
ons. I liked the way Ashley’s velvet top moved against her little breast-buds as she danced. When she turned around, her ass looked so firm that I wanted to grab it. Until that night, I never believed the line about how everybody is a little bit bisexual. I’d had lots of girlfriends, but none I wanted to kiss. With Ashley, it was all I could do to keep my hands off her.
“You’re good,” Ashley said, coming close. She rested her hands on my hips and swayed with the music. I could tell that people around us were staring. I didn’t care. Let them look.
I rested my own arms on Ashley’s shoulders and said, “So are you.”
She cupped a hand over my ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”
I nodded emphatically. We took her car. As soon as we were inside her apartment, she said, “I’m all sweaty,” and pulled her top over her head. She fanned her bare chest with her hand and turned up the air-conditioning. Her nipples had no distinct central points or halos. She saw me looking at them.
“You like?” she asked. She tugged at them with her thumbs and index fingers. “They’re not very big.”
“They’re perfect.” I put my palms against them and kissed Ashley’s tiny mouth. Her hands went around my waist and found the zipper of my skirt. She unzipped me and pushed the skirt down my hips. It dropped to the floor.
Then she was grabbing my ass through my pantyhose and pulling my crotch against hers. I thought that girls who liked other girls would take things slow and gentle. Was I wrong! Ashley and I were going at each other like nobody’s business. When she squatted and tugged my pantyhose and panties down, all I thought was, “What took you so long?”
On her knees, Ashley held my cunt lips apart so she could lick my clit. I ran my fingers through her short, silky hair while she ate me. I tilted my crotch forward. Her tongue felt wonderful. I wanted her to suck my tits. I wanted to suck hers, too, and lick her pussy the way she was licking mine. I started unbuttoning my blouse. It was like a dream—the really dirty kind of sex dream that is erotic as hell while it is taking place, but makes you feel confused when you wake up. I had never so much as kissed another girl, but at that moment the thing I wanted most in the world was to get Ashley in a 69 so we could eat each other’s cunt at the same time.
“Fuck, you taste good,” she said, staring at my crotch. She slid a finger back and forth in my slit, then glanced up at me. “I’m glad I was right about you back at the club.”
“Let’s go to bed,” I said. My voice was low and husky. I couldn’t help it.
Ashley skinned down her black jeans. I thought it was wonderful that she wore no panties. It made me feel sexy to think of her going out with nothing between her pussy and her jeans. Her pubic hair was pale and fine, almost invisible. We pushed down the covers and climbed onto the mattress. Ashley played with my tits. She alternated sucking them and giving them gentle love bites. She sensed precisely how much pressure excited me. She kept two fingers working on my pussy while she tongued and teased my nipples. I heard the wet sound of those fingers fucking in and out of my cunt, driving me crazy.
“Let me eat you,” I moaned. “I want to eat you while you eat me.”
Ashley turned, and we lay on our sides with our crotches in each other’s face. She lifted a leg, showing me her little treasure. Her pink asshole was just an inch away from her pussy. I had never seen a woman’s private parts this close in my life. I could smell Ashley’s cunt, with a perfume that was bitter and sweet at the same time. Ashley licked back and forth in my slit. I gave her pussy a little kiss, then another. I spread her cunt lips as she had done mine earlier. Her clit was a pink, hooded nub. I flicked it with the tip of my tongue.
“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” Ashley said. “Keep doing that. It feels wonderful.” I swirled my tongue all around her clit, then let it travel down farther. Ashley was very creamy at her pussy’s opening. I probed into that tight little hole. I felt daring and lapped across the bridge of skin between her vulva and anus. She squealed when I circled her asshole with my tongue. I knew she’d like that. It was one of my favorite things Chad did for me, when he wasn’t too tired to fuck.
Ashley licked my ass the same way. Then she went back to sucking my clit, really going at it. “Come in my face,” she said. “I want you to come. I want to make your beautiful cunt come.” She kept two fingers deep in my fuckhole as she sucked harder, taking me past the point of no return. I groaned and spasmed, squeezing her fingers tight with my pussy. I wanted to give her a climax as good as the one she had given me. I took another tip from my unreliable boyfriend. I wormed my middle finger into her slippery pussy, then pushed the finger, now well-lubricated, up her ass. With my finger buried in her backside and the thumb of the same hand up her cunt, I sucked her clit hard.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Ashley cried, trembling through her orgasm. If she was sweaty earlier, it was nothing compared to this. Her body shone as if dipped in oil. She turned around so we could kiss while we caressed each other.
“That was fabulous,” she said. “I knew you would be good the minute I saw you at the club. You’re wonderful.”
I decided not to tell Ashley that she had been my first girl, or that I had learned a lot of my technique from a man. Earlier that night, I had thought that I wanted to forget all about Chad. But I had to admit that a few things about him would be useful to remember.—G.T., Biloxi, Mississippi
GIRLS LIKE THIS COME ALONG ONLY ONCE IN A BLEW MOON
I have a theory that most women hate TV sports because they don’t like anything that distracts men’s attention from them. But while most women just bitch and moan about the situation, my one-and-only used a different strategy.
I have to admit that I spend a lot of time glued to the tube. The final straw for my girlfriend Krissy came when a crucial game was airing the night that she got back from a two-week business trip. She was horny as hell when she showed up at my apartment.
“If I don’t get fucked right now,” she said, “I’m going to explode.”
I explained how important the game was, but she ignored me. She sat on the edge of my bed and started undoing my pants. I glanced at my clock radio. It was kick-off time. The silent television set at the foot of my bed mocked me. I like screwing as well as the next guy, but a division title was at stake!
I saw that my best choice was to throw Krissy as quick a fuck as possible and hope she would be satisfied. I whipped off my clothes. After all, two weeks was a long time to go without pussy. My dick stiffened as I watched Krissy unbutton her blouse, un-snap the front clasp of her bra, and reveal her sweet tits. She wasn’t kidding about being charged up. Her nipples were standing out stiff and pink.
I almost forgot about the game I was missing when Krissy took off her skirt. She wasn’t wearing anything under her pantyhose. I saw that she had done some special grooming down there. Her pussy was bare. I imagined her sitting in a hotel room before her flight home, shaving her pretty cunt especially for me. When she peeled off her pantyhose and I got a clearer look at her smooth, bald lips, I got hungry in a hurry.
She saw where I was looking. “You like that, huh?” she asked. She put her hands on her hips and pushed her crotch forward to give me a better look at her immaculate cunt.
“I’ll bet it tastes as good as it looks,” I replied.
“You tell me.” Krissy climbed on top of me in bed, straddling my face.
I grabbed the cheeks of her ass and covered her hairless pussy with my open mouth. I knew that she liked being eaten with long, flat strokes. I licked her from asshole to clit and back again, over and over. I detected the scent of soap on her skin. The thought of her lathering up her crotch and shaving was so erotic that I hoped she would let me watch the next time she did it.
“Mmm,” she sighed. “I didn’t know if I would have time to make myself pretty for you down there, but now I’m glad I did.” Why did she say “have time”? It sounded too much like “half-time.” My dick stopped throbbing and went half-soft.
I looked Krissy sincerely i
n the eyes. “Honey, please,” I said. “Just let me have the game on in the background. This is one that I can’t miss.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her big tits. “Go ahead,” she said. “I don’t mind.” Obviously, she had something up her sleeve—or somewhere. I knee-walked down the bed, not wanting to make any sudden moves. I was just about to lean over and grab the remote when Krissy did some grabbing of her own. She reached between my legs from behind and got hold of my prick. She had moved around in bed so that her face was between my thighs. She took the head of my dick between her lips and sucked it. I’d never had a backward blowjob before. It felt good. Damned good. My cock stiffened again, but Krissy kept a good grip on it and went on sucking. Because my prick could not spring up like it wanted to, I had to keep bending over farther and farther. Soon my shoulders were pressed against the mattress and my ass was sticking high in the air. Krissy’s tongue was all over the head of my straining prick as she sucked. Her fingers were wrapped around my shaft as tight as a vise.
It was a delicious, fantastic sensation—especially when she probed my asshole with a finger. Because of my undignified position, my ass-cheeks were spread wide enough to give her easy access. Soon she was massaging my prostate like an expert, just enough to make my eyes roll up in my head, but not enough to make me spurt my load. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. Finally, though, I gasped, “Baby, let my dick go. I’ve got to come, and I can’t do it in this position.”
Krissy took her mouth off my prick, but kept a firm grip with the non-massaging hand. “Swear you won’t turn on that god-damned football game?”
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