“God,” Chad groaned. “You’re so fucking tight.” He squeezed my ass cheeks before withdrawing again.
“I’m so close to coming again,” I whined, plunging a finger into my pussy. The feeling was overwhelming, and the stimulations fought one another for attention: my clit, on the verge of climax, my twat, still aching and dripping with oil and juices, and my ass, full to the brim with greased cock.
Chad began to slowly increase the speed of his pumping. The pushes and pulls started to blend into one nearly unbearable fever pitch.
“Sexy, so sexy,” Chad hissed, spanking me hard. The oil made it sting even more, and I screamed and rocked forward, blushing with pleasure and pain.
“I’m gonna come!” The words tumbled out of me as the orgasm crashed within me. Temblors of pleasure made my knees tremble. I clenched every muscle, riding out the storm of bliss. Tightening my rectum helplessly, I became lost in the throes of my climax. Chad gave a strangled cry and came, spurting deep within me. He drove into me powerfully, again and again, grinding out his orgasm. Gasping, he grabbed at my back and hips, looking for something to hold onto. Finally, he pulled out one last time and collapsed on top of me. I moaned luxuriously as I felt rivers of cum and oil seeping out of my tired hole.
For a while, it was all we could do to breathe. The intense pleasure of the evening’s activities had drained us completely. At last, I reached a point where I thought I could speak coherently.
“So, what do you think about oil?” I asked, rolling us onto our sides to spoon. Every part of me ached in a way that told me I would have zero trouble sleeping.
“It’s amazing,” Chad said. “Amazing.” He nuzzled my neck and put his arms around me. “Except I think there’s an oil slick under the chair.”
“And you actually tried to do this in the bed,” I scolded, laughing. “What a mess that would have been.”
“A beautiful mess,” Chad corrected, stroking my still-slippery breasts. He kissed me behind my ear. “So. Shall I turn the hose on you?”
“Absolutely not!” I said indignantly, shivering at the image of being sprayed with cold water in the cool night air. “I deserve a long, hot shower. It’s going to take me ages to wash all this oil off.”
“You’ll probably be shiny for days,” Chad agreed.
I sat up and stretched. “Well, the least you could do is help me wash it off.”
“Seems fair,” Chad mused, sitting up and rubbing his hair. “I’m sure if we work together, we’ll get every drop.”
The way he said it made me shudder. “Every drop,” I repeated.
“Yeah, since I was, you know, the one who got you dirty in the first place.” Chad grinned lecherously.
Getting sleep was seeming less likely — and less desirable.
Impulse
by Priscilla West
The bell above the door jangled as Tina stepped into the tattoo parlor. She took a quick breath at the smells, ink and medicinal alcohol, a surprisingly clean even antiseptic scent. Not at all what she’d expected when she thought about walking into a place like this. As she door closed behind her, the three people inside looked up at her. The woman seated in the waiting area looking through a thick binder of tattoos, a muscular man sitting in a chair, shirtless while a voluptuous woman wielded a tattoo gun, etching a large tribal design into his skin.
Just then another man stepped into the space from a hidden room. He wiped his hands with a white towel as he walked in, his eyes moving over the clients waiting then stopping as he saw Tina. Tall. Black hair cut close to his scalp. Tattoos the entire length and width of one arm. A nose ring. A sexy, full mouth.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Tina nodded. “I’m here to get a tattoo.”
He gestured to her. “Come on back.”
Clutching her purse against her shoulder, she followed him past the counter separating the waiting area from the wide room with four individual chairs and four sets of tattoo paraphernalia. Instead of taking her to one of the chairs, he took her through a narrow doorway and into a private room. It looked like an office. Neatly arranged with a telephone and computer on an otherwise empty desk. A rolling chair was pushed up against the desk. And a long leather table sat against the far wall.
Tina looked behind her shoulder. “I don’t want to take that woman’s place. She was waiting before me.”
The man shut the door with a soft click.
“She’s still trying to decide what she wants.” A smile tucked lines into the sides of his mouth.
“What brings you here today?” He gestured for her to sit on the long leather table, brought the rolling chair near the table and sat down.
“By the way, I’m Darren.”
She sat down on the table, putting her purse beside her. “Tina.”
She shook his hand and swallowed at the faint tingle she felt as their flesh touched. To distract herself from the unexpected attraction to the stranger, she looked around the room.
“Aren’t you supposed to tattoo me on one of those chairs out there?” she asked.
“I am, but when I saw you I decided to break the rules.” His deep brown eyes moved over her face, a warm caress. “You’re beautiful.”
Tina blushed. “Thank you.”
That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. When she’d run out of the house in her jeans and plain white t-shirt, her big, poofy hair held back from her face with a headband, she thought she had looked far from beautiful. Maybe even a little homeless. But maybe that was because she was running away from her boyfriend Craig and his latest harangue over her irresponsibility and how she needed to act more responsibly and like a grown up.
She was tired of being chided like child. Tired of always feeling like she was doing something wrong. Darren’s compliment helped chase away the lingering cloud the argument with Craig had left hanging over her.
The tattoo artist smiled at her. There was a tiny scar on his upper lip, like he’d gotten into a knife fight or tried to bite into an aluminum can. Tina wanted to lick his scar. She blushed again.
“So tell me, lovely Tina, what can I do for you today?”
She paused. Should she tell him? It all seemed so amateurish and young when she thought about the reasons that had driven her into the Mission Beach tattoo parlor.
Taking a quick breath, Tina decided for honesty. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” she said. “But I just don’t know what it is that I want.” She felt the embarrassment at her ignorance building again.
“But I know where I want it, though. At the small of my back.”
He nodded. “I think I have just the thing for you.” Darren stood up. “Let me see your back.”
She twisted around to show him her bare skin, pointing to the place where she wanted the tattoo. “Here.”
He touched her flesh. “Here?”
Tina shivered with awareness. His hands were warm on either side of her waist, his thumbs meeting in the middle, lightly caressing her skin. She licked her lips as she felt the beginnings of arousal pool in her lap.
“Yes.” She quietly sighed as the warmth from his hands seeped into her body. It felt like her blood had turned into a river of melted sugar. “I still can’t decide what would go there.” Tina turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Can you create something for me? Anything you want.” She smiled impishly. “I’m feeling reckless today.”
“I can definitely do that, something you’ll like.” His thumbs moved over her skin again. She trembled, then sagged slightly with disappointment as he moved away. Her skin cooled quickly with the loss of his heat.
Darren went to a tall cabinet and retrieved some items from inside it. Tina turned back around to sit fully on the leather table and watch his slow but efficient movements.
Even though he was a stranger, she trusted him to design a tattoo for her that she would like. Craig would have said that none of it was a good idea. Either getting the tattoo or trusting Darren. He would have snee
red at Darren’s tattoos and nose ring the way he was always sneering at Tina’s absentmindedness and even her job as an art therapist. But Craig wasn’t here now and Tina wasn’t sure he’d be in her life for much longer than today.
Darren came back to her with tools in his gloved hands—two pots of ink, the tattoo gun, antiseptic wipes.
“Lay on your stomach,” he said. His voice was low and soft.
Tina unbuttoned her jeans some more to give him access to her back then lay down with her stomach pressing into the leather table. She breathed softly in and out, suddenly nervous. He brought the chair close to her, did something with the tattoo gun and the small plastic pot of black ink. He put his gloved hand on her back, then paused.
“You’re not allergic to latex, are you?”
“No.”
“Good to know for now and maybe later.”
She turned to look at him, confused by his words. But he wore a teasing smile, the scar like a lightning bolt through his sexy upper lip.
“Relax,” he murmured.
“Easy for you to say,” she said.
He laughed.
Tina breathed out quietly. “You know, I’ve wanted to get a tattoo forever,” she said. “But my parents always said I couldn’t. My mother thinks only whores and criminals do this kind of thing to themselves.”
“Whores and criminals definitely get tattoos, but so does everyone else. I’ve seen grandmothers in here. I even did a nun once.”
The needle began to buzz. It touched her skin and she flinched from the pain of it, winced as she bit her teeth. “I’m definitely not a nun,” she said, trying keep her breath steady as the sharp pain moved over her skin like a tongue of fire.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Darren said.
“I have a boyfriend and everything.” Tina chewed on her lip as the tattoo gun dug into her skin. “But I think he hates me a little, or at least thinks I’m an idiot.”
“Only an idiot would think that.”
Tina smiled through the pain dancing over her skin. “He’s really a nice guy but sometimes I just think that he and I made the wrong decision when we got together.”
Before she knew it, she was telling him about her life with Craig, the guy she had been seeing for the past two years. The same guy who was as dull and predictable now as he had been the day when she first met him at the computer conference her best friend had dragged her to.
She told Darren about Craig and about how they always seemed to clash over every little thing--washing the dishes, paying bills, going out to dinner, even sex. Tina felt her face get warm as she mentioned the last thing but couldn’t stop herself from talking. Her nervousness from the tattooing experience was running her mouth twenty miles a minute.
“You probably didn’t want to hear any of that,” she said as the tattoo gun stopped and Darren wiped her skin. He smoothed some sort of ointment into the tattoo.
“I want to hear everything you have to say,” he murmured with a smile in his voice.
He stood and helped her to sit up. Her skin burned from the tattoo, a hot pain that sank into her spine and made her squirm. Tina glanced over her shoulder, trying to see the new ink on her back. “Can I look at it?”
“Not yet,” Darren said. He picked up a bandage and covered the tattoo. “I want you to come out with me tonight. There’s a concert on the beach near the pier. It’ll be fun.”
A concert? Tina couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to one. Craig wasn’t a big fan of crowds and because of that, they didn’t go to concerts or much of anything else.
“Okay. That sounds fun.” And the idea of it, of going to an outdoor concert with this sexy and compelling man seemed like the best thing she could do for herself. Besides, she didn’t want to go back to the apartment and deal with Craig and his nitpicking. He was sure to freak when he found out she got a tattoo.
“Great!” The smile on his face was megawatt bright, showing off his brilliant white teeth, the sparkle in his dark eyes. “So, you have to promise me you won’t look at your tattoo until tonight after I see you.”
His energy was contagious.
“I promise,” she said.
“Good.”
They agreed to meet at the south edge of the pier by seven that evening. Tina gave him her number and told him to call her if she wasn’t there by seven fifteen since she always got lost when she was going somewhere.
“You’re never lost,” he said. “Just taking the scenic route.” Darren took his cell from his back pocket and called her phone. “Now you have my number too.”
Tina couldn’t stop smiling at him, unable to believe what a great day it had turned out to be. She should be spontaneous more often.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she said.
A few minutes later, she left the tattoo shop feeling more optimistic and happy than she had in a long time.
She spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through Mission Beach. It was the first Saturday she could remember in the last few months where she just took the time to do nothing necessary. She bought ice cream and ate it as she window shopped, slowly strolling down the strip of tattoo parlors, smoke shops, places selling bathing suits and knick knacks. All the while, she savored the burn of the tattoo on her back, remembering Darren’s lean and casually muscled body under the t-shirt and jeans. His bold brown eyes as they had caressed her face.
The time for the concert took its time coming, but eventually it arrived and Tina made her way down to the pier to meet Darren. Reggae music already played from the stage as she made her way to the place they’d agreed to meet. The music was mellow and smooth, penetrating her body with its infectious rhythm as she walked through the crowd of people, some with dreadlocks, others with big hair like her, some with bald heads. It was a peaceful and easy vibe. Tina found herself swaying to the music as she waited for Darren. The voices of the concert goers rose and fell around her. The sound of the waves brushing against the sand. She swayed in place to the music.
“This is some good shit, huh?”
She turned around at the sound of Darren’s voice. He was just as compelling as she remembered from earlier that day. Some part of her had imagined that she’d dreamed him up, this sexy, dark eyed boy. And though she felt guilty about thinking about him with Craig at home, that didn’t stop her body from reacting strongly to his presence.
Her palms itched with the urge to touch him. His full mouth seemed etched in moonlight. She suddenly wanted to know its taste, how it would feel against her own.
“It is,” she said. “Thank you for inviting me. The music is so mellow. I love it.”
He held out a hand, and she took it without thinking. Instead of leading her away toward the stage, he pulled her into his body and started to move with her.
Damn. He was even a good dancer.
He smelled like the tattoo parlor and of cologne. Sandalwood. As they danced, Tina felt herself respond even more to him, her nipples hardening from their press against his chest, a wetness between her legs.
She slid her arms around his waist and allowed herself the luxury of leaning even more into him. Their hips moved together. She felt his breath against her ear. The arousal deepened. Tina felt like she should back away from him and run, pretend like this day never happened. But she couldn’t. The stunted life she had with Craig wasn’t something she could go along with much longer. She couldn’t want to be with him and feel this strongly for a stranger. Darren’s hand touched her back, just above her new tattoo.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured a moment before he kissed her.
Around them, the beach-side crowd carried on as usual. A woman in a bikini twirled a brightly lit up hula hoop around her waist. A pair of twins juggled what looked like bowling pins near the edge of the water. The sweet reggae music played on.
Darren’s lips were soft on hers. Light as a dream. Tina pulled him closer, opening her mouth to make him more real. She didn’t want a dream. She wanted to make thi
s a hard reality, something she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was life, real life. She opened her mouth against his, licked his mouth. Darren made a soft noise, drew her even closer, deepened the kiss.
Tina sighed as their tongues danced, a liquid and snaking motion, his breath soft on her face, his arms around her body. People moving around them as if they were rocks in a tide pool. She felt their kiss deep in her belly. A warmth radiating from her center, up into her chest, down into her sex. Tina moaned into his mouth. Darren pulled back, sucking on her lower lip.
Sensual Erotica (Vol. 1): 26 Erotic Stories Page 14