Erotica: Can't Keep Them Apart (New Adult Romance Bundle)(Erotic Sex Taboo Box Set)

by Audrey Drake

  She sighed.

  At least she could make do with what we had, but she longed for something more substantive than secretly pilfered cucumbers shoved up beneath beneath the ruffles of her skirt.

  Her family would surely disown her if they were even made faintly aware of these thoughts, or even of the simple fact that she had a sex drive to indulge. Each of them would practically Bible-quote her to within an inch of her life if they found out.

  “Flee from sexual immorality,” her father would say, “Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body.

  “But as for the cowardly,” would chime in her mother, “The faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

  Her brother Zachariah would say simply, “The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.”

  Even her four-year-old sister Rachel, speaking with an otherwise-adorable lisp, would chime in obnoxiously, “Fo' out of da haht come ebil foughts, muwdew, adultewy, sexual immowawity, feft, falth witness, swandew. Dese awe what defiwe a pewson.”

  And then, in all likelihood, they would stop speaking to Ruth altogether.

  There was no question about it. There was no way on God's good Earth that she could allow her secret erotic escapades beneath the blankets become known, nor could she even come close to indulging in her wild, dangerous fantasies.

  No, she decided as she drifted down slowly from the sweaty mountain of orgasm, sex was something she must keep to herself at all costs, and enjoy in total privacy, or else not at all.

  _____

  It was strange how intensely Jamarr disliked his girlfriend Krystal. It was something of a mystery to him, in fact, that he elected to maintain their relationship to the extent it so far had, suffering through all of her various quirks and annoyances, far more loathing present between them than loving, to the point that it almost seemed they were bound to the relationship out of a mutual sense of spite more than anything else.

  Actually, that wasn't the entire reason, as both of them knew fully well.

  The real reason, for Jamarr at least, was Krystal's body. Her tight, hot, wet little pussy. Her firm, ripe, succulent ass. Her perfect, immaculate tits. The gorgeous tension across the taught brown skin of her chiseled stomach, her face and body resembling perfectly that of a model's.

  Furthermore, Jamarr suspected, Krystal's reason for staying in the relationship lay similarly between his legs, in the form of the monstrous third leg that hung severely between his thighs like an elephant's trunk, and when applied properly to her own fleshy organ, which shook her Earth to the very foundation of its being, made her explode like wildfire into a burst of shimmering orange flames, moaning and groaning and writhing and squirming from the viciousness of his ferocious cock.

  The problem was, however, that Krystal new how to use her pussy's magnetism to her advantage, withholding sex in such a skillful way, and at just the right moments, that Jamarr was caught in limbo between the buildup of intense longing, with screwing so scarce that it drove him right up to the point of breakup, and always it was at this juncture that Krystal relented, giving him what he wanted, their lovemaking so intense, so orgasmically explosive and mind-shatteringly satisfying, that any thought of letting her go fled with its tail between its legs from his mind, and she would be back in his good graces until she decided to resume withholding from him.

  Over and over and over and over again, it was always the same exact story.

  Aside from sex, the two of them shared almost nothing in common. Presently, she had dragged him for a long weekend getaway to Lancaster, Pennsylvania for an excruciatingly dull stay at Amish Country, a trip which he considered analogous to having his teeth pulled, the highlights of which included tours of cheese-making facilities, buggy rides, and touring dingy flea-market type facilities selling wares that seemed to come exclusively from the eighteenth century. Creepy faceless dolls, wooden tools, bulk foods and quilts galore.

  There was at least one redeeming quality to the otherwise ceaseless monotony, however-

  Vacation sex.

  Despite Krystal's annoying fondness for what she called the quaintness of this part of the country frozen in time, she had ended up electing to eschew the traditional cozy Amish inn for their sleeping accommodations, and chosen instead a luxurious chain hotel, delightfully empty at this time of year, and Jamarr was given a brief reprieve from his captivity to antiquity in the exquisite comforts of modernity.

  The two of them had just gotten back from a day of wandering about the town, Jamarr carrying around several bags of miscellaneously rustic souvenirs for Krystal that she didn't remotely have a need for, when they got back to the hotel in a state of exhaustion, dropping everything on the couch the moment they stepped in the door. Almost immediately Krystal hurled herself into his arms, draping herself around his thick neck, planting wet, sloppy kisses all across his face.

  “Oh baby, I had such an amazing time today...”

  She had, evidently, mistaken his tight-lipped compliance for mutual enjoyment, as that entire day he'd had to carefully suppress the urge to burst forth into a major tirade as to how asinine this all was.

  “Ohhh, me too babe...” he lied.

  “You know, I think the hot tub's still open downstairs... You and I would have the whole entire thing to ourselves...”

  It didn't take much more convincing than that.

  Krystal spent most of the next half hour with her head under the water.

  Their bodies slipped hotly across one another in the swirling whirlpool of the tub, her already skimpy bikini top dissolving away altogether from her chest, her large, bare breasts sliding up and down across his body. He seized hold of her by the ass, sliding his fingers through the straps of her thong as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He leaned in viciously between her sopping wet breasts and did a little motor-boating, making her laugh, handsome droplets of water splashing in every direction from her body. He suckled playfully at her nipples for a while, making her gasp, and then set her back down in the tub, the waterline scarcely concealing her tits from public view, and he snorkeled down into the water, pressing his lips firmly into her pussy, making her brace the side of the tub with her arms in an effort to steady herself through his lapping. Soon she was reciprocating, and Jamarr was holding the head of his little black mermaid forcefully against his body under the water, her head wobbling like a bobber up and down around his substantial cock, the lips scarcely able to wrap themselves around his girth, but savoring the challenge all the same.

  A small cluster of hotel staff had gathered outside the window, staring at the couple's perverse antics through the glass. Jamarr did nothing, but simply stared them straight back in the eyes as the submerged Krystal sucked him off, with a fierce expression that seemed to say, What are you going to do about it?

  Nothing, their eyes said in return, and they turned away sullenly, not about to come close to interfering in their sodomy, and every single one of them secretly jealous, male and female alike, straight or otherwise, inwardly wishing desperately that they were Krystal at that moment.

  The party continued back upstairs.

  They did not even dress for the trip back up to the room, but wrapped themselves in towels, Krystal's nipples peaking coyly out of the top like the sun rising teasingly over the horizon, Jamarr's unabashed erection poking fiercely through, clearly visible to the family of four beside them in the elevator, as the two of them made out on the way to their floor.

  A few minutes later, and Krystal was draped out like a rag doll across the bed. Her legs were bent over the edge, her rump jutting high into the air for easy access, and he was pummeling her pussy with an animalistic fierceness, thrusting in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, her fat black ass wobbling severely around his cock as he thrus
ted, piquing his enthusiasm to a degree that was practically unbearable. He held her by the waist, slamming her body hard against his pelvis, his cock digging deeper and deeper into her body with every gyration of her hips.

  She started to moan.

  “Ohhhhh... Ohhhhh... Oh fuck... Oh fuck... Oh God... Oh yeah... Oh yeah... Oh God...”

  With this encouragement, and possibly some annoyance at her whiny, nasally voice even now, his pumping intensified, their wet, sweaty forms banging harder and harder against one another, the slapping of their skin delightful and perverse in the still, dim room.

  Klpklplpklpklpklpklpklpklpklplpklpklpklpklpklpklpklplpklpklpklpklpklpklpklplpklpklpklpklp.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh GOOOOOODDDDDDD!”

  Jamarr roared. With one final, apocalyptic thrust he dragged Krystal viciously into his body, his absurd monster of an erection tearing her apart at the seams, exploding, bursting his hot, gooey magma throughout ever nook and crevice of her insides, so thick and so abundant that it seeped back out of her pussy, dribbling down onto her legs, lubricating him as he gave her a few more minor grinds, squeezing out every last drop of milky goodness, apparently hitting all the right spots, because she was screaming now, her fingers balling up the covers, clawing deep into the mattress, her legs lifting up off the ground, her toes curling ecstatically in midair.

  Until at last she released.

  The pangs suddenly stopping apparently, her limbs all went limp, drooping down to her sides, the only sign that he'd left an ounce of life in her the faint, gentle expansion of her torso that indicated some delicate sign of breathing.

  He pulled out of her with a large slurp, tapping his drained cock on her ass a couple of times just for the fuck of it, wiping it clean of any excess cum, and climbed up onto the bed, allowing her to hang suspended there with her ass over the edge, leaning hard agains the headboard, slowly allowing himself to regain his breath. After a few moments she crawled up to join him, wrapping her limbs around his naked body, slowly stroking her fingers across his chest, running tender kisses across his pectoral muscles in the afterglow. Her hair smelled distinctly of chlorine, and her last words before falling asleep on him were: “Thanks babe.”

  Jamarr scowled.

  He wished he didn't hate this perfect sexpot of a woman so much.

  Chapter Two

  Ruth was bored, helping her friend Mary at the Amish market for the day, selling bushels of bulk hard candy wrapped in clear, crackling plastic, cases of Amish-made cheese, shelves stocked full of preservatives, racks of quilts, and innumerable quantities of just about anything made of wicker. She stared with some degree of concealed wariness at all of the tourists wandering stupidly through her community. “Hey kids, look, this is how people used to live during the stone age! Isn't it neat?” There was a shelf stocked far too hopefully with sets of wooden toys and games, foolishly, Ruth thought, as what child in their right mind would glean satisfaction from watching a clunky Jacob's ladder flipping up and down its rungs when they had vast and endless electronic worlds at their fingertips, and what girl would want the faceless stuffed dolls dressed in black when they could have the thin, plastic, and hyper-sexualized visages of what a woman should look like, manufactured by the thousands upon thousands and sold at an affordable price at their local department store?

  Ruth honestly didn't know how she felt about technology. So much of it seemed like nothing but pointless distraction to her, and she could see why her people had decided to boycott it from their existence. Other items, however, seemed rather useful, and she couldn't see the harm in them. She'd at one point learned of the wonders of electric vibrators from overhearing what was thought to have been a private conversation between two tourists, and the very idea of it made her grow moist between the legs.

  That, she decided, was something she would very much like to have.

  When she wasn't ringing people up at the cash register or re-stocking items on the shelves, Ruth stood around secretly inspecting the tourists as they walked through the store, judging them in some cases, but more often than not lusting after them, fantasizing about what they must be like in the bedroom.

  It wasn't difficult to imagine.

  The men, when not overweight, were chiseled and broad-chested, their muscles practically tearing their way from their clothes, bursting to get out. Their washed out jeans were tight, often torn at the knees, or else they wore shorts that barely made it past their knees, both the attractive and unattractive alike, often with exposed toes visible through flip-flops. With the women, meanwhile, you were lucky if they wore anything at all, their skirts scarcely making it past the line of their genitals on their bodies, their blouses so low cut as to reveal nearly the entirety of their ripe and jiggly breasts, their midriffs often visible, their asscracks occasionally hanging defiantly out in the back.

  Hot damn.

  It was such a contrast with how her kinsmen carried themselves; what lay underneath their many layers of garments was a complete and utter crap shoot. With these people, everything was hanging right out in the open for all to see, whether they wanted it or not, and if it was your intention to screw somebody, you knew almost exactly what you were getting even before the meager scraps of clothing came off.

  What she wouldn't do for an afternoon's roll in the hay with a few of these men...

  And that's when one particularly fine gentleman caught her attention. At the moment, he was engaged in a heated argument with what must have been his girlfriend, his muscular arms waving wildly in the air, his voice booming as though to combat the woman's shrill wail.

  “Hark,” said Mary, a teasing smile on her face. “It appears to be a pair of quarrelsome lovers...”

  Ruth rolled her eyes. “You know, just because we look like we live in the 1800s doesn't mean we have to talk like it as well...” And then her eyes roved casually to the boyfriend's ripe backside, squeezed tightly in his jeans, and Ruth couldn't help but fantasize. Though the Amish community was largely pale, pasty, and Germanic by its nature, black men had an amazingly strong appeal to Ruth. She'd heard it through the grapevine that what they packed below the belt was considerable to say the least, enough to practically cripple a woman between the sheets- imagery she was never able to shake anytime she came upon a man of darker persuasion stopping in town for a visit.

  She imagined it vividly.

  His girlfriend pointing up to Ruth, whispering, “I think there's someone more interested in you than I am.”

  The man licking his lips, Ruth gasping.

  He would rip off his shirt as he swaggered up to the cash register, his smooth black flanks rippling in the wind.

  Wind? Rippling flanks? It was Ruth's fantasy, dammit, she could imagine whatever she wanted...

  He would seize hold of her, plant his lips firmly onto her. The two of them would kiss passionately, right there in the open, in full view of the surrounding crowd, his breath hot, wonderful, perfect as it seeped down her throat.

  He would bed her, right there on the register.

  He would peel her clothing off, piece by piece, leaving her bare, exposed, vulnerable.

  The crowd of stupid tourists would take pictures of the spectacle with their phones.

  He would slide his massive dong inside of her, then the two of them would screw like rabbits, brusquely, fiercely, tremendously, until Ruth was screaming at the top of her lungs, knocking the jars of hard candy from the register, shattering in a million pieces on the floor, as he pummeled her with some far tastier hard candy of his own.

  The crowd would cheer as he shot his hot, sticky load all over her sweaty face, dribbling down across her chin until she dabbed at it with her fingers, slurping it down her throat, consuming his essence with enthusiasm.

  And then her family would shun her. Her community would too. And God.

  She would be an outcast, without recourse.

  It could, of course, never happen, like all of her fantasies.

  But then it did.

 
Or rather, the closest thing to her fantasies that could possibly have happened, happened.

  She snapped out of her daze as a rack of preservatives came smashing to the ground, glass shrapnel exploding in every direction, and she looked around to see that it had been the girlfriend, driven to breaking point, and bursting forth into a tantrum. It seemed barely to have registered with her that she'd just tipped over an entire rack of merchandise. There was still as much flame and fury in her eyes as the moment before she'd done it, her nostrils flaring, and immediately she turned tail and stormed out of the shop, leaving her boyfriend standing slack-jawed and humiliated in the middle of the room.

  “I... Uh...”

  Everyone else simply stared at him, but Ruth rushed into the back to find a broom and dustpan, and hurried to sweep up the mess.

  “Oh my God, I am so so sorry, for all of that,” said the man, clearly unsure of what to do in such a situation. “I, I- Oh God, here let me get that...”

  “No, no, it's alright, it's my job,” Ruth smiled. “Besides, these things happen.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet they happen all the time when you have psychopaths in your store...”

  Ruth laughed politely. “Don't worry about it...”

  She was sweeping around his feet, and she imagined rising back up only to his waist, unzipping his fly, leaning in, and...

  “I'm going to pay for all of this of course...”

  “Ohhh, don't worry about it,” Ruth repeated, although she had no authority to do so- this was not her store, after all, and she had no say over such things.

  “Don't be ridiculous, this is a lot of damage. Of course I'll pay for it, and-” he reached into his wallet, and another embarrassed expression washed over his face. “I don't suppose you accept credit cards, do you?”

  “Mmm, no,” said Ruth, sounding just as embarrassed for him. “Only cash...”