Stripped Down

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Stripped Down Page 3

by Tristan Taormino


  She and I locked eyes for a second. I must’ve looked scared because she mouthed, “It’s okay,” and winked at me. She turned and got on her hands and knees with her ass to me.

  “Okay boy, let’s see just how wet that got her. You check—you can touch her anywhere you want and don’t worry about being gentle ’cause believe you me she likes it best rough.” I got up on my knees and tentatively reached out to touch her bare ass. Her short slip pulled away from her ass as she bent down and put her head on her hands. I slid my hand down between her thighs along the tight furrow of the lace crotch of her panties bisecting the lips of her pussy. Just like Drake had said, she was dripping; the lace was soaked through and her juice was dripping off her clean-shaven outer lips. My hand came away with a thick layer of it.

  “What are you waiting for, sport? Get to work!” Drake reached out and smacked Jubilee on the ass. “Give her ass a slap, boy. You gotta soften her up before you stick that thing in.” I looked down at her and didn’t know what I should do. She turned her face toward me and gave me a half-smile and nod. “You don’t need to wait for permission, boy, just do it.” He picked up my hand and let it drop, then I brought it down again with a dull thud on her left buttcheek. “Okay, you can do better than that. Here—spread your fingers a little more and bring your hand down a little cupped, make it meet the curve of her ass…all right—go ahead.” I tried a second time and got a nice ringing slap.

  “That’s better, now you just need to do it harder.” Drake laughed and smacked her again just to show me. “Now doesn’t that look beautiful? Look how nice and pink her ass gets.” I tried a few more times while Drake yelled, “Harder, boy.”

  Once he pronounced her ass sufficiently red, he fished a glove out of his pocket, snapped it on, and dug down between her legs with his gloved fingers. “Oh—Baby Boy—you’ve got her so wet you won’t need no lube with this one, just go ahead and give her the whole thing.” He reached back and grabbed my cock where it had been bumping against her thighs, pushed the head right up against her, and slapped my ass. “Go for it, Baby Boy, that ass is all yours.”

  My butt flinched away from his hand and before I even thought about it I had buried the big cock in her cunt right up to the base. Now her juices were overflowing onto the front of my shorts. Drake took my hands and put one on each side of her hips, keeping his own hands over them to show me how to hold on.

  “All right, boy, you work her over from this end while I get that blow job. Oh man, I am so hard it hurts.” Drake threw his leather jacket and flannel shirt to the floor as sprawled on the bed against the opposite wall. He still had on a T-shirt over a long underwear shirt with Motorhead splashed across his skinny chest. He splayed his long legs on either side of Jubilee’s lowered head, grinning at me as he tore at the bursting crotch of his tight black Levi’s. Drawing out a black cock even longer and more wicked looking than the one he had given me, he winked.

  With another shrug and twist of his hips to get comfortable, he took a big double-handful of Jubilee’s long black hair and yanked her face up to his crotch. “Remember this bad boy?” he growled. “You can’t have it till you beg me for it.”

  The moment Drake raised her head I could hear her steady whispered pleas.

  “You’re gonna have to beg a little louder then that,” Drake said, and swiped the head of his cock across her mouth, letting her dive a few inches for it and then pulling her away with his other hand.

  My hips swung harder into her, my crotch and thighs slapping with metronomic regularity into the taut fleshy expanse of her ass. I pounded as if my thrusts could drive her down onto Drake’s dick, wanting his cock inside her as bad as I had wanted my own to be buried deep in her.

  Her voice rose, torn and gruff: “Please, please let me suck your big cock, Daddy, please give it to me, please, please….” It was like she would never stop saying please until Drake’s dick stopped her up like a plug.

  A smile spread across Drake’s face as he looked down at her and with jumping muscles at his shoulders and forearms he reversed his pressure and pulled her head down on his cock. He looked up at me before the eyes rolled back in his head and grinned a shit-eating grin. “Ain’t it sweet, boy?”

  We were so close we could have easily reached out and shaken hands over Jubilee’s writhing back, and I glowed under his approving grin. Drake eased up on Jubilee’s head, letting her work him up and down as I had already learned she did so well. I watched my own cock slide in and out of Jubilee’s dripping pussy, glistening. I looked at my dark dirty-nailed fingers gripping the smooth swelling flesh at her hips, and loved how they stood out on her paper white skin. I watched her head bobbing over Drake’s crotch, saw the bulging veins in his hands as he gripped her hair. She looked so beautiful between us there on the bed in the tiny trailer, her back shining in the dim light and her hair flying every which way, a few dark locks snaking back toward me but most of the dark tangled mass spilling around Drake’s lap.

  I slowed my thrusts and gave her most of my length on each swing. She groaned deeply as Drake held her all the way down on his dick. His eyes were on mine, but this time the look was something I couldn’t read, he was so far gone. I closed my eyes, exploded and fell forward over Jubilee, lapsing again into the silent beyond, the blood in my ears drowning everything out.

  For a long moment I was still, but then there was a hand at my shoulder shaking me. “Boy—Baby Boy, get up!” Drake was looking down at me. “Get your damn dick back in your pants and get out of here! You’re dad’s got more business with his girl and you’re getting in the way. All right, boy? You got what you need—now go sleep in the van. Go on—git!”

  He shoved me off the bed, almost sending me into the table at the other end of the trailer as I tripped on the jeans that had settled around my knees. I caught myself on the doorknob and tried to stuff everything back in my jeans, my sticky dick getting all tangled up in my shorts. I looked back at Drake and Jubilee: her hair covered her face and I couldn’t catch her eye. I opened the door and stepped out, missing the first cinderblock step and falling out onto the hard rock-strewn sand.

  I found my way back to the van and climbed in the back. I unbuckled the harness and pulled it and the dick out of my pants, reaching up front to throw them in the glovebox. Exhausted, I fell into the pile of blankets at the back of the truck. It seemed like I would fall straight into unconsciousness, but instead I thought only of lying back in that trailer with my head on Jubilee’s chest.

  BUTCHES DON’T

  D. Alexandria

  Butches don’t do this. Butches DO NOT do this. I kept repeating this in my head as my girl, Sonja, knocked on the door. She flashed me a wicked grin as she leaned back, pressing her ass into my crotch.

  “You packed,” she murmured, grinding against me.

  “Of course,” I replied, momentarily allowing myself to enjoy the feel of her.

  “It feels different…,” she began, but the door swung open and her friend, Lani, greeted us with her trademark Kool-Aid smile.

  “Girl, you look great!” Lani cried as she and Sonja hugged. Then she turned to me, gave me the once-over, and smirked. “Sonja, you’re lucky I got a woman of my own, ’cause you best believe I couldn’t let a butch this fine go past me without trying something.”

  Sonja rolled her eyes in amusement as Lani showed us into the living room. “Better not let your woman hear you. You ready?”

  “Almost, have a seat.” Lani rushed out of the room as Sonja and I sat on the sofa. I removed my jacket, since I was staying.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” she asked me softly.

  No. “Yeah, I’ll be chill.”

  She kissed my cheek sweetly. “Thank you for doing this.”

  You are so not going to be thanking me later. “Of course, baby.” I kissed her back.

  I was full of shit. I wasn’t chill and I certainly wasn’t going to be okay. While Sonja and Lani were going to have dinner with some friends of theirs,
Sonja thought it would be great for me to hang with Lani’s girlfriend, Vicki. Lani, who relocated to California five years ago, had temporarily moved back for a couple of months for a job, and she and Sonja were enjoying getting reacquainted. But of course, as girls do, Sonja felt that since Vicki didn’t know anyone, it made sense for the two of us to become friends; she and Lani felt we had a lot in common.

  Little did they know.

  “I’m ready.” Lani finally walked out of her bedroom, sporting a very little black dress. She struck a model pose as she stepped into the center of the room.

  “We’re going out to dinner, not the club,” Sonja commented as she got to her feet, but she whistled as she eyed the outfit.

  “That’s what I said.”

  I turned to see Vicki emerging from the bedroom, her arms crossed in front of her as she gave her girlfriend a half-disapproving look. “There’s no reason for that. Look at your girl, she’s covered.” Which was true. Sonja was wearing black slacks and a semisheer blouse that still looked classy. But that was Sonja’s style; always a bit conservative.

  “Sonja’s always been the sugar…,” Lani began.

  “…and Lani’s always been the spice,” Sonja finished, before they erupted in a fit of giggles, looking like teenagers again instead of the thirtysomethings they actually were.

  “Baby, I told you, no worries.” Lani gave Vicki a very deep kiss that forced Sonja and me to look away. “We’ll be back around midnight and…” I turned in time to see her whisper the rest of her statement in Vicki’s ear, making Vicki blush.

  “C’mon, heifer, before we’re late.” Sonja gave me a gentler kiss, before giving me the “try to have fun” look. After a few more rushed comments and reminders, they were gone.

  And then it was just me and Vicki. She still hadn’t moved away from the bedroom doorway and from my position on the sofa, I was giving her an uneasy look. Why am I here?

  “Did you bring the beer?” she asked.

  “Uh, yeah.” I had completely forgotten the six-pack at my feet. “You want it in the fridge?”

  “I’ll do it.” She picked up the beer and headed for the kitchen. “Lani made all this snack shit, you hungry?”

  “What you got?” I asked, as I tried to calm myself.

  “Come look, fool, this ain’t no restaurant.”

  Dammit. Reluctantly, I got to my feet and went into their kitchen. It was entirely too small, barely room enough for the stove, fridge, and sink, let alone the meager cabinet space and their tinyass table. On the table was a spread of rolls, sandwich meats, chips, and potato salad. Vicki was making herself a sandwich, and for a moment I forgot myself and just watched her. Vicki was your stereotypical Californian: body conscious and into just about any kind of physical fitness you could imagine. Dressed in a tank and jeans, you could see how toned she was as she simply fixed herself some food, her muscles moving beneath the skin of her arms in a rhythm that made me bite my lip.

  “You gonna just stand there or make something?”

  My eyes rose. “Huh? Oh, yeah…sandwich.”

  She gave me a questioning look before finishing up and squeezed by me on her way out. As soon as I was alone, I started mentally kicking my own ass. Why was I here? Why hadn’t I just told Sonja that this wasn’t a good idea? Well, because then she’d want to know why. And there was no explanation I could give that she’d be satisfied with, short of my claiming to be sick—which wouldn’t fly since Sonja was a nurse. And, of course, telling her the truth would be suicide, so I had no choice but to come.

  As I made a couple of sandwiches, I kept telling myself I’d have to be cool. But that was pointless, because deep in my gut I knew what was going to happen…and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted it to happen or not. Butches didn’t do shit like this. At least not any butch that I knew. But despite feeling like I couldn’t do it, I also couldn’t ignore what had been happening. The lingering looks, the nervousness in each other’s presence, the accidental touches that always ignited sparks…and that fucking kissing episode.

  Yes, yes, yes, you heard right. I couldn’t replay it exactly; all I remembered was Vicki and I meeting before having to hook up with the girls for a late dinner, sharing some beer and before I knew it we were kissing. Never in my life had I even looked at another butch in a sexual way, but from the first moment I saw Vicki…something was there. Her look, the way she carried herself, damn even the fact that she shaved her head completely bald. And if that alone didn’t freak me out, the revelation of her attraction to me sure did. But for the couple months we were around each other, despite the situation, we were able to deal.

  “There’s no game on, wanna watch a movie?” Vicki called from the other room.

  “Depends on the movie,” I answered as I finished up. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked back into the living room. It was also small, so there was only the sofa to sit on. Vicki was on one end and I took the other, setting my bottle and plate on the coffee table before me. Vicki was flipping through TV channels, and of course there was nothing we found interesting. She started listing all the DVDs they had, but nothing caught my interest.

  I occasionally glanced at Vicki, wondering if she was thinking what I was thinking. I knew all the searching for movies and the small talk was just a way to ease the tension. We both knew what could happen tonight. We had never acknowledged the attraction we had for each other, never talked about the kiss, but every time we saw each other, I could see that her eyes mirrored mine. We both wanted to know what could happen, given the chance.

  We settled on watching some music videos as we ate, barely talking, only commenting on whatever video was on. But when 50 Cent’s P.I.M.P. came on, Vicki grinned.

  “I love this video,” she announced. “That scene with the chick pimp and the two girls on the leash is hot.”

  “Hell, yeah,” I agreed, watching the video with anticipation. Even though I had seen the video countless times, that one scene was worth seeing any time. And as soon as it came on, we both whistled.

  “That shit always turns me on,” she said.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I got no shame in admitting I get freaky and shit. That’s why I dig Lani. She’s up for anything.”

  I turned in my seat to face her. “She be letting you tie her up and shit?”

  Vicki grinned. “That and more. Believe me, man, much more.”

  “What else?” Even though Lani was my girl’s friend and all, I couldn’t deny the fact that she was hot and her doing the shit Vicki was suggesting was something I definitely wanted to hear more about.

  Vicki shrugged. “I’ve tied her up, blindfolded her, spanked her, flogged her—you know, shit like that.”

  Unconsciously, I was groping my dick through my jeans, feeling it press against my clit. “Damn. I can’t believe Lani’s into that shit. Sonja’s open and all, but I don’t think she’s that open. Although it would be cool to find out.”

  Vicki was staring at me intensely, as if she was measuring me. “There’s something I got you may want to see.”

  “What?”

  “Hold up.” She got up and disappeared into the bedroom. A few moments later, she was back with a DVD in hand, walking over to the entertainment system. I watched her load the movie and sit back on the sofa, remote ready.

  I was finished with my food, and now held a second beer in my hand as I watched the screen. It was black and then the title, The Black & the Bound, appeared. My eyebrow rose as the title faded and the screen was lit up with a dark-skinned sista on a table. She was on her stomach, naked and spread-eagle, her ankles and wrists tied with rope. As soon as I took that shit in, my nipples tightened and I let out a measured breath.

  Vicki had just played her hand.

  At first, the girl on the screen was still, just lying on the table—and no lie, that alone was arousing to see. But then we could hear loud footsteps offscreen, causing the girl to writhe against her restraints. After a few second
s, we saw another sista approach the table. Sporting a PVC catsuit and extreme killer heels, she was holding a wooden paddle in one hand, while her other began caressing the naked girl’s body.

  “I’m not really into dominatrixes all dressed up like this,” Vicki said suddenly. “But it’s all good.”

  Apparently it was. Out the corner of my eye I could see her groping herself like I had been doing myself earlier. My eyes went back to the screen just in time to see the dominatrix swing the paddle and it landed a blow on the girl’s ass with such a loud smack, the sound echoed throughout the room. The girl on the table cried out, but got no time to relax as the paddle quickly came down on her ass again. The dominatrix was pretty relentless, wielding the paddle with finesse as she decorated the girl’s ass with hit after hit, and even through the dark skin, we could see the discoloration beginning to appear.

  As much as I had some interest in that S&M shit, I had never seen an actual video, so I was watching in semishock. But that was nothing to the shock I felt when I turned to say something to Vicki and found her slumped beside me, her hand shoved down her unzipped jeans. Damn, I’d been so into the porn, I hadn’t even heard her unzip.

  She looked over at me and just smirked before turning back to the TV. My eyes went back to the screen, but I was thinking that not even two feet away, Vicki was getting herself off. I couldn’t believe she was doing it with me in the room. I had never seen another butch get herself off. It was one of those things you just did on your own. But as I sat there, feeling the sofa jiggle with Vicki’s movements, and now watching the dominatrix switch to a flogger, it was as if my dick was screaming at me to touch it. All I had to do was unzip and slide my hand inside. All I had to do was grab my shit and just stroke it, feeling the base of the dick press into my clit. I’ve mastered jacking off that way and could reach a climax within five minutes if necessary, and not touching myself was too much to bear with all the sexual energy in the room. But I was feeling rather embarrassed about it. I didn’t know any other butch who masturbated using her dick that way. And I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to handle the possible ridicule.

 

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