I pulled her up to kiss me a few times, mostly so I could feel how her lips and tongue get swollen and wet when she sucks me off, and so I could have that moment of thrusting her head back down to my cock, pushing on the back of her skull.
She started taking it deeper, deep as she could, nearly the whole thing, and she kept it there while her throat contracted around it and she fought her gag reflex then pulled up and kneeled.
“Do it again,” I said, and she looked up at me, mouth open, tongue thick, and lowered her mouth back down, sucking me all the way again. “Deeper. Good girl. Take that cock in your throat. Swallow it. Good, that’s so good.”
And again she came up for air.
“Do that one more time,” I said, caressing the back of her head, “and I’ll fuck you.”
She quivered a little. I could see it ripple through her back, and then she did: brought her mouth down on my cock once more; took it deeper this time, pretty, so pretty, so far back in her throat.
When she started to resist I pulled her up by her hair, shifted next to her, put my hands on her hips and turned her over to her back, then slid between her legs again.
She was so wet I barely needed lube. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”
“Yes.”
“You like my cock in your mouth.” My hand was on it, putting it in place.
“Yes.”
“You like to suck it. You like when I fuck your pretty mouth.” I guided it in, hard, and started fucking her sweet but steady, deep. She moaned, tried to say yes, but it came out in a slur.
“I like it too. I like my cock in your mouth. I like how you suck it. You get me so hard, I just have to fuck you,” I continued, cock thrusting in and out as I took her wrists in one hand, held her down, kissed her jaw and neck. “I like it in your pussy too.”
“Yeah, yeah, put it in my pussy. Fuck my pussy hard.” She shifted her hips up and back and I thrust an inch deeper, reached around her thigh to get a nice grip on her ass.
Somehow, she was set off and kept a steady stream of words at my ear; every time I thrust harder into her I’d get a nice reward of her lovely voice saying dirty things: Oh, yeah baby, just like that, fuck me hard, you know how I like it, you know how I love your big dick in my pussy, put it in me, harder baby, fuck me, fuck me hard, and when she got closer it became Ooh, baby, you fuck me so good, you fuck me so good, baby, that feels so good, so good, you fuck me so good, baby, baby—
And somewhere in there I lost it. I blurted, “I’m gonna come,” as it started happening. Groaning, harness against clit, thrusting my cock deep in her; I don’t even know what I do exactly when I come like that because I’m so unpracticed at it that my body goes and releases and moves and I’m not sure what I’m doing.
She wrapped her arms and legs around me, held me close as my breathing evened and my pulse calmed… until I slid comfortably next to her and she shifted to her stomach, looking at me, and I left my hands on her skin, ran them along her back and held her ass in my palm.
It’s hard to lie naked next to her without getting turned on.“What?” I said. “You thought we were done?”
LAUGHTER IN HADES
Teresa Noelle Roberts
Her laughter cut through the other noises that formed the normal soundtrack of Club Hades: moans of pleasure, screams of pain, the thud of floggers and paddles. Fantasies were played out here. Some followed scripts that were either archetypal or hackneyed; others took a more original turn. But what the scenarios had in common was that the players didn’t think of them as play. Maybe it was the pressure of having an audience, because I saw some of these folks away from scene parties and they had senses of humor, but you didn’t hear a lot of laughter in Club Hades.
I love a woman’s honest laughter, bubbling up from inside her secret places and bursting out uncontrollably, like orgasms.
The sweet sound rang out again, and this time it went straight to my dick. It was a knowing, sexy, mature laugh, not a girl’s giggle, and I had to find its source. I stalked that laugh through the club until I found her.
Her name, she said, was Addie. She was Marilyn Monroe blonde and curvy, wearing a bright red dress with a soft, easy-to-raise skirt instead of the standard tight black leather, and she managed to work both Looney Toons and Bergman into our opening flirts.
Better and better.
I asked if she felt bad girls should be caned.
Addie chuckled—oh, god, that laugh!—and said, “It’s too much fun for bad girls. Only good girls should be caned. And I’ve been very good tonight.”
She laughed like a woman who’d discovered what she wanted, and what she wanted was me. Delicious.
I considered forgetting about negotiations, and, for that matter, about Club Hades’s no-penetration rule, and bending her over the bar. I could have that skirt flipped up and my cock inside her fast enough that she’d giggle from bewilderment as well as pleasure.
Instead, I was a good dom and asked all the right questions about boundaries and safewords before I led her to a spanking bench, bent her over it, and secured her wrists and ankles in place with leather cuffs.
Her eyes went wide. Her breath grew shallow, as if she couldn’t remember how to make her lungs work.
She stopped laughing as I fastened the cuffs into place. The prospect of a good, hard caning focuses a woman, as a rule. But she looked so hot that it made up for her seriousness. When I raised her skirt the pale, luscious curve of her ass and the slickness of her pussy made me want to laugh with pure joy.
I didn’t. It would’ve seemed like bad form, since she didn’t know me well enough to be sure I wasn’t mocking her. But I certainly smiled as I got out my favorite cane.
I aimed; tapped her pretty bottom a few times to make sure of my angle; struck harder a few times, just enough to provoke a yip and a bounce on her heels.
“Ready?” I asked.
Her answer was more a nervous giggle than a true, hearty laugh, but I still could have rolled around in the sound. There’s definitely something heady about the mixture of happy anticipation and fear from a bottom awaiting her fate.
I struck, watched as the telltale red double line blossomed on her white skin. I struck again. She flinched forward and yelped but immediately thrust her ass back and begged, “Another, please.”
How could I refuse?
Since it was our first time playing, I didn’t go full out, but I didn’t hold back either. Especially when, in a breathy voice with a hint of a chuckle at her own audacity, she asked, “Harder, please.”
How could I say no to that? I couldn’t, not when her ass was so beautifully striped and her pussy was so drenched I could smell her heat.
I drew back, gauged the force I needed, whistled the cane twice for effect and then snapped it against her.
She reared against her bonds, her head thrown back, her mouth opened in a silent scream of pain. Maybe I’d gone too hard? It’s so tricky to gauge with a new partner. I stepped aside so I could get a better look, see how she was doing.
As I watched, a flush of pleasure softened the shocked expression. Her eyes closed. She bit her lower lip. It was hard to tell, but it looked like her abs were clenched, as if she was working up to an orgasm.
Then she laughed, a rich laugh that started at her clit and worked up from there, gathering erotic power all the way until it burst from her mouth.
Earlier, Addie’s laughter had made me hot. This, throaty and sensual, made me wild, especially coupled with her striped ass and wet pussy. I froze in place, too turned on to speak, to move, almost to breathe. Pure lust.
“Sorry,” she managed to say through the laughter. “I can’t help myself. Endorphin rushes always do this to me.”
“Oh, really?” One side step and I was lined up for another cane-thwack. “Then I’d better keep those endorphins flowing.”
I struck a little harder this time, and the reaction was even more dramatic—first the cry of pain, then the burst of laughter, both more unfettered
than before.
I kept on caning her and she screamed and laughed until she started crying, still laughing and saying, through her tears, “Don’t worry. Good tears. Release.”
I couldn’t resist. As she laughed and cried, I let my fingers find her slick clit and pushed her to a quick, hard orgasm.
Addie laughed then, too, laughed like a goddess pleased with the world she’d created, and I knew I was in love.
Hyperbole, of course. It took a few dates to fall in love with her.
But it’s been two years and we’re still together.
And my cane still makes her wet, and her laughter still makes me hard.
THE QUICK STOP
Shashauna P. Thomas
I’ve always been the type of woman who gets bored easily. My mother says I have too much of a restless spirit to be happy with a conventional career. So no one was surprised when I decided to drive trucks crosscountry. Though it’s a predominantly male-oriented position, there are a number of women truck drivers and more signing up each year. Most people think only butch women drive trucks when that simply isn’t the case.
Like our male counterparts, female truck drivers’ physiques vary from petite to plus size. I tend to fall somewhere in the middle, with a stocky build and curves in all the right places. For me, hauling shipments across state lines is a dream job. Not only is the pay good, but I get to travel and see new sights. Nothing is better than driving alone for hours on that open road. It’s not that I’m antisocial or don’t like being around people. I just enjoy my solitude. I do some of my best thinking in the cab of my truck at night, when the rest of the world seems to disappear in the blackness; when it’s just me, my truck, music and the blacktop. Of course, there are times when even I get lonely. It’s during these moments I find the time to make an unscheduled stop at the Quick Stop.
The Quick Stop is one of my favorite little convenience stores located on the side of a secluded highway. Perfect for drivers to stop and gas up or for truck drivers like me to gas up, pick up some supplies, grab a cup of coffee and maybe stir up a short conversation while stretching our legs. However, grabbing a cup of joe is the last thing on my mind when I stop at this Quick Stop. Late at night the area is completely deserted, except for Jamal. Jamal is the son of the store owner. Since his father is getting up in age, Jamal has been helping him out by taking the night shift.
I’ve been coming here for a couple of years now, often enough for Jamal to recognize my truck on the small TV behind the counter that’s hooked up to the surveillance cameras. Usually by the time I park, shut off the engine and climb out of the cab, Jamal is out of the store and already steps from me. The last time I visited the Quick Stop, Jamal’s lips were on mine in seconds.
“It’s been a while, Diamond. I thought you forgot about me.” The velvet timbre of his voice flowed over me like honey. My senses immediately went on red alert.
“It’s been a busy couple of weeks. And none of my deliveries took me in this direction,” I whispered as I nibbled along his chin. My hands were already unbuttoning his shirt while his hands gripped my ass through my jeans, taking his time feeling up my rump before untucking my shirt. I love the feel of being surrounded in Jamal’s thick arms, and I couldn’t wait to run my hands through the light dusting of chest hair I knew was underneath his clothing. I’ve always been tall, so it’s nice when I find a man who’s tall enough to make me feel dainty.
“Well, it looks like I’m going to have to remind you why it’s in your best interest to stop by more often.” He nibbled on my neck and ear as his hands ran along my skin under my shirt to the front of my jeans. Backing me up until I was leaning up against my truck, he quickly opened my jeans and pushed them down along with my underwear to my knees. Never one to be idle once I had his shirt undone, exposing all those illustrious hard chest muscles, I reached into his pants pocket, searching for the condom I knew was there. “Mmm…you always taste so good.” With my top pulled up, exposing my naked breasts and sensitive nipples to his wanting tongue, it was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate. Jamal took his time alternating between breasts, savoring each.
Placing the wrapper between my teeth, I tore into it, retrieved the condom, undid his pants as quickly as humanly possible, then pulled the elastic of his underwear down enough for his erection to spring free. Only then did I slow my hectic pace and take the time to explore the raging hard-on in my hands. I slowly began pumping his dick, loving the combination of smooth skin and hard muscles almost as much as his appreciative humming on my sensitive nipples.
“Oh, yes, Jamal!” I began to moan as one of his hands snaked down between my legs. His fingers immediately found my aching clit, rubbing in my own juices. Jamal’s fingers are just as talented as his mouth. There have been plenty of times before when he brought me to orgasm before entering me, but this night I didn’t want to come until he was deep inside me. Apparently Jamal and I were once again on the same page.
“Roll the condom on, Diamond. I need to be inside of you now.” Using the last brain cells still working, I rolled the condom slowly down his shaft. As soon as it was on properly, Jamal leaned slightly away, giving him enough room to grip me by the hips and flip me around. With us both facing the side of my truck, he placed my hands up beside my head and grabbed my hips, positioning me the way he wanted. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped as he rubbed his tip around my entrance, covering it in my juices before he slowly began to thrust inside. “Damn, baby… you’re always so tight. I could fuck you like this forever. Right here against your truck. For everyone to see. How does that sound?” he whispered in my ear, as he found his rhythm and began to pump away as if he had all the time in the world.
His sure, deep thrusts, combined with his hands squeezing and pinching my nipples, had me extremely close to orgasm. He knew the image he’d painted fed into my exhibitionist tendencies. If that wasn’t enough to send me over the edge, doing it doggie-style with Jamal was. He always felt bigger in this position, and he was hitting spots I didn’t know existed. All too soon my vaginal muscles began to contract around his insistent invasions, so he gripped my hips and began to pound away, sending me into multiple orgasms. The feel of his climax inside the condom sent me into a last orgasm that almost stole my breath.
It was a while before we had enough energy to separate, fix our clothes and kiss each other as we said our good-byes, Jamal once again reminding me not to be a stranger before I pulled away. We didn’t know much about each other except that we both were single, we weren’t exclusive and our sex was as phenomenal as it was spontaneous. On those lonely nights, it’s just the pick-me-up we both need.
PAIN SURFER
Cate Ellink
The waves roll continuously, rhythmically pounding against the wet sand. There’s a man trying to win control over the ocean’s fury. I watch him exert his power over Neptune, God of the Sea, as I walk toward the rocky headland. He seems driven to control and it excites me in a very primitive way. With each step closer I feel heat crawl down my thighs and through my body until I am burning.
The struggle is exhilarating. It’s not only the movement of muscles against the sleek black of the wet suit that arouses me but also the flip and dive of the board as it conquers and rides across waves. I’m entranced, enthralled. Then he rides a wave straight toward me. The breath jams in my throat. He’s so close to the rocks. His smile dazzles me even in my terror. He twists off the back of the wave and drops into the trough of sea. Damn. He deliberately confronted death to scare me.
He emerges from the fury: sinfully muscular thighs, powerful calves and long, wide feet; a flat stomach, wide chest and square shoulders; a dimple flashes in his left cheek. His chin is deeply grooved. His eyes are the color of a stormy ocean and just as intense and dangerous. They hold my gaze.
He puts his board down, away from the pull of the ocean, and comes closer. Still I don’t move. My mouth is partly open as I stare. I can taste the ocean in the air as it caresses my tong
ue.
His cool, wet, strong hands touch my face before his lips meet mine—salt, sea and fury. His kiss sears. Heat floods my body. I meet the power. I devour his lips as he attacks mine. My hands run over wet-suit-clad muscles that bunch beneath my touch.
I need flesh.
I have to feel the heat from taut muscles, skin. I pull on the zipper at the back of his wet suit.
I can’t break the kiss. I need his taste.
I hear the squelch as the wet suit pulls away from wet shoulder blades. His mouth plunders. Finally powerful shoulders, then sleek chest, break free.
My fingers and palms rub, touch, pinch and tease even as we kiss. This kiss makes the surf seem calm.
Lips search, devour, taste, nibble.
Teeth nip, bite, graze.
Tongues dance, circle, duel, stroke.
My hands burn against his body. His hands dance over my skin in a trail of fire. He is everywhere and yet I can’t feel enough of him. We struggle with the wet suit—ankle zips. I shed him of it.
His cock stands proud. He makes a deep throaty sound as my hand curls into a fist around it, and I tug him against me. Our mouths again meet in fierce combat. My bare breasts hit his damp chest. When did he undress me? All I felt was his touch.
My hand strokes his cock until it pulses against my palm. It’s an awesome power waiting to be unleashed. I curl my leg around his and thrust my hips forward. I need to feel his power surging upward.
His chuckle as he pulls away sends shudders straight to my bursting cunt. He knows I need him. He leads me to a large, flat piece of cliff face. He presses himself back against it, standing, and I climb him using his shoulders, spearing myself onto his shaft. As I sink, I gasp. Fuck, is it that big? I pant as my body screams. Muscles stretch trying to accommodate him. I lift my head, pull my body backward, pulling off his cock until I feel the cool salty air hit my heated cunt. He bites my bottom lip. I yelp, pleasure shoots through me and I sink back onto him. His cock plunges deep inside.
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