“Dear Cherry.” Lenny smirked at me as he came around the front of the chair. “I don’t think you could ever be a true submissive. There’s just too much disobedience in you.”
He didn’t give me a chance to reply. Instead he shoved his cock into my open, waiting mouth. I sucked it hungrily while Jeff urged my legs wider apart and shoved his cock deep into my aching, dripping pussy. Still bound, I couldn’t touch either man, and my hands ached to squeeze and pleasure the base of Lenny’s cock while I sucked it. But the denial made the sensations all the sweeter. When he thrust his shaft all the way in, until the glans thumped the back of my throat, I swept my tongue out over his balls. As he pulled out halfway, I swirled it over his slippery, rock hard shaft. He moaned and buried fingers in my hair. I groaned around his pulsing dick, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum and skin.
Jeff fucked me hard and fast with his thick, medium length cock. As he did so, he reached around and nudged the hood of my clit back. Using my copious juices as lube, he pinched and rolled the throbbing bud of flesh until I moaned uncontrollably around the cock face fucking me. I concentrated on the feeling of his plump penis stroking my cunt walls. It thumped away at my g-spot, taking the delicious pressure building there higher and higher. Since we weren’t playing the dom/sub game any longer, I came hard without their permission. My pussy squeezed his penis with all it might.
They came on my ass and splattered spunk all over my face. I licked the sweet cum from my lips and sagged against the spanking bench, catching my breath and enjoying the ecstatic fog that wrapped around my mind, around my whole body. And as I came down from this orgasmic bliss, I wondered what lesson Lenny and I could plan next to top this one.
***
If you enjoyed this story from the Cherry On Top Series, be sure to check out the complete collection, Cherry’s Sex Exploration, at Amazon, Kobo, All Romance, BookStrand, & Smashwords.
***
Janet the Giant Lover
(From the 50 Shades of Fairy Tales Series)
By Roxxy Meyer
I like my men big and brawny. Not all over-bulging muscle and popping veins, but, as my Aunt Macy used to say, “Built like a brick outhouse.” Okay, not the most romantic image, but you get the point.
And in my line of work as a tattooist, I deal with a lot of hot, burly giants, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened after Aunt Macy died and she willed me her little bookstore on Granville Street.
Aunt Macy told me, “Janet, when I kick the can, you can do whatever you want with this place.” She’d repeat this on most of my visits, while we had coffee and brownies like only Aunt Macy’s could make them, sitting between dusty stacks of everything from Moby Dick to Her Scottish Rogue. Aunt Macy loved bodice rippers, and she actually wrote historical romance under a few pen names. Along with the bookstore, it covered the bills and left a little over, but she wasn’t rolling in wads of Jackie Collins’ type cash advances. Still, Aunt Macy had been quite content with her life in her small cozy bookstore, with apartment over top.
Now, as I locked my Jeep and walked to the brick building, with its green and white striped awning, a wave of sadness hit me in the chest. I sighed heavily, blew a strand of platinum blonde hair from my eyes, and hitched my backpack over my tank top clad shoulder.
I caught my reflection in the glass door as I unlocked it. One pigtail was higher than the other and my hazel eyes looked bloodshot and bleary. My face seemed paler than usual. I was tired from the long drive up, and my faded jeans were sticking to me in the late spring humidity.
No sooner did I open the door and step into the shadowy store than someone was behind me, grabbing my shoulders with large, slender hands and whirling me around.
“You must go help them!” a tall, almost Amazonian, woman in a billowy, blue cloak whisper-rasped at me.
“Go help who?” I scrambled back from her, trying to get in the door and shut it before she could pull a knife or something on me.
But she shoved a large, booted foot in the narrowing space and grabbed at the candy striped strap of my shirt. “The ancient one from the mountains is coming. It will start a war if you don’t help them stop it!” Then she shoved a tiny drawstring bag made of burlap in my hand. “Take these. Plant them in the garden behind the store.”
And with that, she was gone. Her rubenesque form seemed to float away under the amber glow of the globe streetlamps. But her face remained in my mind. Old world, with big dark eyes that reminded me of an owl, a slender nose, full lips. She looked like a giantess who’d sprang to life from some book of myth and legends.
I opened the tiny sack she’d placed in my palm, finding three white beans inside. At least they looked like lima beans to me. Figuring I had nothing to lose, and not believing fairy tales could ever come true, I went to Macy’s little garden in the back and planted, as my visitor had instructed.
Four hours later, just as I was crawling into an older tank top and shorts with Spiderman on them—AKA my pajamas—the ground started to rumble. I thought Vancouver was finally getting that massive earthquake we West Coast Canucks feared.
But a look out my upstairs bedroom window revealed the ground was ripping open for a different reason. A humungous beanstalk tore through the earth and shot up into the sky. As it burst past me, it slapped me in the face with wide, green leaves. I batted away the offending flora and retreated back into the apartment, where I watched the thick, ropy column climb its way to the moon.
And as I stared up at the rapidly sprouting mega-plant, Jack and the Beanstalk filled my thoughts. The old fairy tale was one of my favorites, and Aunt Macy used to read it to me often when I was small and she’d pay a visit.
“Crap, I have to climb that bitch, don’t I?” I said to myself as the stalk broke through a thick patch of clouds.
Good thing rock climbing was a hobby of mine. I often went to the community center to scale the climbing walls they had there. So I headed out to the Jeep, grabbed my climbing gear, and then headed to the garden to scale a vegetation monstrosity.
Thankfully, there were deep recesses in the stalk, and thick vines I could rest on. The climb took all night, and the sun beat hot rays on me when I finally reached the top, breaking through cool clouds that hid another world above.
I gasped when I saw what laid before me. A world of emerald green with lots of rolling hills and a spattering of trees. Directly in front of me, a massive, grey stone castle loomed. It even had an old school drawbridge.
“I’ve died, and heaven is a book of fairy tales,” I said as I walked toward the towering citadel, complete with turrets and ruby-colored flags rippling in the wind.
As I walked, I noticed sheep grazing in a field, and the animals were almost as tall as I was! I expected a giant to rumble up behind me and bellow “Fee Fi Fo Fum!”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “If only Walt D could see this!”
The drawbridge was already lowered, so I tentatively placed my climbing shoe on its weathered planks. Below me, murky moat water swirled with unseen creatures. I saw a massive flipper break through the surface, attached to an oily body that looked as big as a skyscraper. Swallowing down my fear, I focused ahead and walked quickly to the other side.
The gate leading into an inner courtyard was made of wrought iron rails, and the space between them was wide enough for my five-foot-six, curvy frame to slip through. I walked through an overgrown garden with crumbling fountains, unkempt hedges, and other decaying finery. Thanks to a small window near the base of one castle wall, I easily slipped inside the sprawling structure. The open shutters creaked slightly when my climbing shoe hit one of them as I thumped to the floor below. I held my breath and stood still, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the heavy shadow inside.
That’s when I heard the voices. I crept around a long dining table, edging closer to the door on the other side, so I could listen.
“It’s over, Rex,” a smooth baritone drifted through the cracks in the rounded, wooden door. “We both
know it’s been over for a long time.”
“Bullshit!” a deeper bass voice boomed. “We can work through this. For Loki’s sake, you haven’t given us a fair chance.”
The other man laughed a bitter laugh. “Haven’t given us a fair chance? It’s been six months since Kama died. We’ve grown farther apart in that time and we both know it.”
“That’s just your unresolved grief talking, Logan.”
“No, that’s the cold, hard truth, and now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pack.”
His footsteps made the cobblestone floor beneath me quake. I tried to skitter back from the door and out of sight, but I was too late. A towering giant with long, curling caramel hair and eyes that matched entered the dining room I hid in. He was at least two feet taller than me, and he gaped down as I gaped back.
“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, making his baby smooth face look lecherous.
“I… I was sent by someone,” I blurted as I staggered back and my head slammed into a table leg.
Another giant entered the room. This one was a few inches taller than his partner. His hair was a shorter, shaggy mane of midnight black, and his eyes were a pale amber that almost shone yellow. A trimmed beard lined his lower jaw and a moustache slightly hid his upper lip.
“Who sent you?” he growled, giving me a suspicious frown.
“A woman. She was a giant, like you,” I rambled on about my encounter with the blue-robed giantess outside Aunty Macy’s bookshop. “She said I had to help you. Something about an old guy coming down from the mountain?”
The two looked at each other then back at me. “The ancient one,” the black haired man said.
“Think she’s telling the truth?” Caramel eyes, who was clad in tight brown breeches and a flowing linen shirt, raised an eyebrow at me, then looked back at his partner.
“Did the woman give you a name?” the one who appeared sullen asked this. He wore a vest that looked like it was made from tanned leather, and breeches that matched.
I shook my head.
“We haven’t seen a below dweller in a long time.” Caramel eyes stroked his chin as he regarded me. “It has to mean something, Rex.”
Rex, the brooding one, nodded. “Let’s put her in the cage until we figure it out.” A slow, wicked smile formed, and he reached for me just as I scooted under the table.
***
The pair of giants stuck me in a gargantuan gilded jail that reminded me of an oversized birdcage. Sadly the bars were placed close together, so there was no escaping my prison. At least not yet.
Logan AKA caramel eyes stayed with me in the spacious master bedroom where the cage was located. While Rex, the dark brooding one, left us alone. Now Logan sat on a big four poster bed, laid out with a silky plum colored quilt and matching curtains and pillows. He braced his fists on the mattress, leaned forward, and studied me.
“Why are you here really?”
“I told you.” I lifted off the multi-colored cushions sprawled across my cage floor and went to the door to return his stare. “A woman sent me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Kama?”
I wrapped my fingers around the bars. “I don’t know. She ran off before I got her name.”
“What did this woman look like?”
I gave him a description of the giantess.
His eyes went wide then his handsome, baby face pruned in distress. “That sounds like her, only that’s impossible.”
I tilted my head. “Why’s that?”
“Kama’s dead.” Logan drew closer to the cage and sat on the cold, cobblestone floor beside it. “She was our wife, and she was a diplomat with the Royal Council of Lowland Giants.”
“Lowland giants?”
He smiled. “That’s us. Mine and Rex’s people. Kama and some others went to have peace talks with the mountain giants, but it ended badly.” His smile dropped and he looked away.
I touched his arm through the bars. “What happened?”
“She and three others in her traveling party were killed by mountain giants. War scouts were waiting to ambush them.”
I grew more curious and more confused. “How would she expect me to help you?” A ghost had sent me up a beanstalk. This was just too bizarre.
Logan shrugged and his eyes drifted as he lost himself to thought. “I don’t know, little one. I just don’t know.”
I changed the subject then. “So…what do you and your husband plan on doing with me?”
His smile was gleaming, wide, and salacious. “Well, I have a few ideas.”
And at the mention of his ideas, I had one of my own. Judging by his carnal up and down perusal of my generous curves and breasts, my plan to spring this prison just might work.
I tugged my tank top farther down, exposing ripe, round cleavage. “Really? What did you have in mind?”
Part of me wondered what kind of chance I was taking here. After all, who knew what size of penis a giant would be packing. I wasn’t too worried about protection since I was on the pill, and maybe giant’s had condoms. Who knew? It was a risk I was willing to take to get down that beanstalk and back home.
As if reading my mind, he said, “There are some things you should know about a giant first, love.” Through the bars, he brushed my cheek with big, rough fingers. “We’re big everywhere, and we like rough sex games. Are you up for that?”
I swallowed and steeled my courage, jutting my chin and breasts higher. “I can take anything you can give.”
He chuckled at my bold statement. “Well, I’ll go easy on you just the same.”
He opened the cage and stepped inside, then he locked my prison door behind him. My heart sped up as he walked closer to where I stood atop a floor covered in large round cushions.
As he leaned in to kiss me, I asked, “What about protection?”
He pulled back, looking concerned. “Yes, the last thing we’d want is you getting knocked up with a giant baby.” His eyes widened. “I’ve seen what trying to birth one does to a human from below.” He pruned his face and shook his head. “Not pretty.”
I gulped. “No worries there. I’m on the pill.”
He smiled his shark smile as he leaned in again, and I pressed a hand to the deep valley between his pecs. “Then we have nothing to worry about. Giants, you see, don’t have to worry about sexually transmitted diseases. We’re lucky that way. We’re immune.”
I took his word for it, deciding, if I were lucky, maybe I could get the keys off the belt on his breeches and slip this place before we got to third base. Keeping my eye on the golden ring that held my ticket to freedom, I puckered up and took his kiss.
He had to kneel to lick the seam of my lips, which I parted to take his probing tongue inside of me. My small hands spanned his massive shoulders after he shed his shirt, and his huge hands engulfed my waist as he pulled me deeper into the kiss. Our mouths mated in a carnal play of mouths, teeth, and tongue, and I moaned as he suckled my bottom lip.
Neither he or his husband were hard on the eyes, so, really, this was an easy ruse of seduction to pull off. I didn’t mind being mauled by a giant who looked like a cross between Ryan Gosling and a studly wrestler. But it was getting tough to keep my mind on stealing those keys when his hands and mouth were so skilled at manipulating me.
He yanked off his breeches and now kneeled naked before me. I saw just what a fine specimen he was, with all rippling muscle and smooth skin. Thankfully the erection growing between his legs looked manageable too. Thick, veiny, and a brownish pink hue, but not so large I feared it would split me apart. But the downfall to his nakedness was he threw his breeches clear across the cage, and there was no way I’d be reaching the keys until I made some artful maneuvering.
He pushed me back into the nest of pillows, tongue fucking me deeper and harder as he did so. Tiny growls escaped him as he tore off my tank top and shorts. I rarely wore underwear, so now I lay exposed and completely vulnerable before him. Not a shy woman about my thick but
firm body, I let his carnal gaze roam over the hills of my breasts. He devoured the sight of my pussy when I spread my legs to show him my glistening labia. I knew they were wet because I could feel the growing dampness of my arousal.
His head dipped to my breast and he teased a nipple between his large, white teeth, pulling it taut while he flicked his tongue over the tip. The peak tingled and puckered, and my aureole wrinkled up from the pleasure spilling down my torso, zipping straight to my sex to ignite more desire there.
As his big hands roamed and explored my body, I managed to squirm and wriggle over the sea of pillbox cushions until I edged closer to the keys. But his rough, thick fingers parting my legs and stroking ever higher up my thighs stopped my pursuit. When his thumb stroked over my swelling clit, I briefly forgot I wanted free at all.
He slid a finger inside my cunt, filling me with it, pumping it in and out of my slippery sex as he continued to sweep his thumb over my clitoris. I squirmed and moaned beneath his touch as liquid heat spread through my loins, through my body. His thrusts soon sparked a pleasing pressure inside me, making my g-spot throb. And he pinched and plucked at my clit still, while he dipped his head once again to suckle at a nipple. I cried out and shook as I came, spilling my juices down his hand.
“That was wonderful,” I breathed, giving him a lazy smile. My eyes flitted over the keys in the corner, and once more I saw opportunity. “Now, I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes narrowed to lusty slits. “Your wish is my command.”
I scooted across the pillows, acting as if I was about to offer up my ass to him, but as I bent down on all fours, I reached out and snapped up the key ring. I estimated I had maybe two minutes to get out of there, if I were lucky. The first key I slipped in the hole had better be the right one, otherwise I’d be facing punishment. And with these giants, I had no idea if that would be a good or bad thing.
BDSM Romance Collection Page 6