When She Was Good

by Tristan Taormino

  “No,” I croaked.

  She unzipped my leathers and slid her hand down my pants. I sucked in a breath as she explored my clit with one finger. After a minute of that I started to sway, but I was afraid to touch her to steady myself.

  “What do you want?” she asked, dragging her fingertip up one side of my clit and down the other, over the head and back again.

  “I want to suck you off.”

  She pulled her hand out of my pants and I fought not to whimper. “What about that pretty little hard-on you’ve got in your pants?”

  “I’d like to come for you,” I whispered. “I’d like to come for you harder than I’ve ever come for anyone.”

  “Any way I want it?”

  “Yes.”

  She gripped my wrist and dragged me through the crowd, past the sling where she’d fucked the guy, to the corner where a padded pole a foot thick ran from the floor to the ceiling. She stripped off my vest and dropped it on the floor, slammed my back up against the pole, and jerked my arms around behind it. I felt her buckle leather shackles on my wrists before she came back to face me. She yanked my pants down to my ankles and kicked my feet as far apart as they would go.

  “Is there anything you want me to know?” she said, rubbing her palms in rough circles over my breasts, bringing my nipples screaming back to life again.

  “I don’t fuck men.”

  “What else?”

  “I’m not sucking anybody’s cock.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  She grabbed my face and shoved her tongue into my mouth. I couldn’t breathe so I bit her, just hard enough to make her ease back. Then I sucked her tongue until she couldn’t breathe.

  She pulled out and licked my lips like she wanted to eat them off my face, flicking her tongue into my mouth too fast for me to catch it again, although I snapped my teeth and tried. She laughed.

  “You think I’d waste these sweet lips on a cock?” She bit my lower lip and twisted my nipple rings. I whimpered. “I’m saving your mouth to come in myself.”

  Breathing fast, she rubbed her cunt on my leg. She was hot and slippery and her clit was a hard knot in the center. “I’m going to drown you in juice.”

  She kept at it, rubbing and sliding, until she shivered once, hard, and jerked away without coming. My cunt was spilling and I was drenched to my knees with her come and mine. She forked her fingers, clamped my clit in the V, and squeezed.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, sagging against the pole.

  “You’ve got a nice fat one, don’t you?” she murmured, jacking me slowly. Too slowly to make me come but enough to make me need to so fucking bad tears leaked out of my eyes. She pinched the head with her nails and I did cry. “Poor baby. Let me make that better.”

  “Please,” I begged, all pride washed away in the sea of blood pooled in my cunt. I wondered if I was supposed to resist but I didn’t care now. I just wanted to come.

  She pulled something off the waistband of her chaps at the same time as she spread my cunt open with one hand. I couldn’t see much, but when I looked down my clit was standing up between her fingers. Even in the dim light I could tell it was wet and the dark color it got when I was about to come. If she jacked me now, I’d shoot.

  She did and my legs started shaking and my clit got extra hurting-hard the way it did when I was ten seconds from coming.

  “I’m coming,” I said because I thought I should tell her, but she must have known because she stopped cold. “Uh uh god… I’m about to come…please.”

  “Breathe, baby,” she whispered, and before I knew what she was doing, she replaced her fingers on my clit with a two-inch spring-loaded clamp. It closed onto the shaft of my clit with a snap and the rows of blunt teeth dug in and banished the blossoming orgasm into oblivion.

  I screamed.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” she crooned, her mouth on my neck oddly gentle as she licked the sweat and tears that ran down from my face. She rubbed my lower belly, pressing into me in deep circles that somehow made the profound ache inside almost bearable. “Does it hurt, baby?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered. My cunt throbbed like someone had kicked me and needles of pain speared through my clit.

  “You’ve got a beautiful clit,” she whispered, jiggling the clamp with one finger. “Look how big you are now.”

  I bent my head and tried to see, but the tears clouded my vision. My clit pulsed between the jaws to the beat of my heart and I felt something else, something even more powerful than the pain. “I need to come.”

  She flipped the clamp back and forth. The pressure surged in my clit and my cunt opened and closed like a fist.

  “Oh fuck that’s so fucking good.”

  She gripped the clamp and twisted.

  “I want to come so bad.”

  “And I want you harder. Harder than you’ve ever been for anybody.” She pulled my nipple ring and jacked my clit with the clamp. The teeth dug into the hood and pulled it back and forth over the head with every tug—pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain. “Now you might be hard enough to shoot a nice load for me.”

  “I don’t think I can,” I moaned. The clit torture made me harder than I’d ever been but it wasn’t hitting me right to get me off. “I really really need to come.”

  “Watch me do you, baby.”

  I tightened my stomach and bowed forward, shaking sweat from my face so it wouldn’t run into my eyes. My clit was stretched out, impossibly swollen, the head bulging beyond the clamp. Seeing her fingers, slick with my come, tugging the clamp was too much. “Oh god you don’t know how bad I need to come. I think my clit’s gonna burst.”

  “Now it might,” she said, and pulled off the clamp.

  Blood rushed in, my clit doubled in size. The nerves in the head short-circuited from the sudden stimulation. Pain and pleasure blasted up my spine in equal measure. I thrashed and tried to get loose. I had to hold it, rub it, do something, anything, to stop the agony.

  “What’s the matter?” she whispered, fingering my nipple rings rapidly again.

  “I gotta come,” I howled. There were more people around us now, most just staring, a couple jerking off. I didn’t care about them. I didn’t care about anything except coming.

  “Let me help you.” She fingered the head and, oh god, it hurt. It was so good and it hurt and I wanted to come so much and it hurt and I couldn’t and I was fucking dying.

  “Oh Jesus, don’t touch it!” I moaned. “It’s too hard now. It hurts. Oh Jesus. Fuck.” I was blubbering, tossing my head around. I thought I might throw up.

  She seized my face again and forced me to look into her eyes. “Shut up and breathe.” She kissed me, so gently I felt like she was rocking me in her arms. “I’m gonna make you come, baby, so sweet.”

  She kept kissing me, her tongue delving deeper and deeper until I was sucking it again. Then I felt her fingers glide over my clit and my body jerked. She rubbed it and it felt so good and I moaned. She backed out of my mouth and straddled my leg, her wet cunt hot enough to burn my skin. She whimpered and I realized how long she’d been holding back.

  Some guy close to us groaned and I could hear the frenzied slap of his hand on his cock and she growled, “Shoot on the floor, cocksucker, not on her,” and he did.

  “Get ready, baby.” Then she lowered her head and took my nipple in her mouth, chewing on it and tonguing the ring while she switched her grip on my clit and started to jack me. With so much stimulation happening everywhere at once—her cunt, her fingers, her mouth—the pain in my tortured clit didn’t prevent the orgasm from building this time. My clit couldn’t get any harder, but it started to throb inside, and the pressure spread into my belly, and I knew nothing was going to stop me.

  “I’m gonna come,” I cried, and my cunt started to spasm.

  She shoved her fingers into me and raised her head to stare at my face. “Give it to me.” Her palm thudded against my unyielding clit as she fucked me, a
nd I unloaded into her hand and over her arm, crying and yelling Oh fucking god it’s so good…

  She didn’t quit until there wasn’t a drop left in me and I was twisting to get away from her fingers, my clit so fucked out I wasn’t sure I’d ever need to come again. She reached behind me and released my hands and I fell to my knees, trying to drag air into my lungs. She didn’t care if I could breathe or not. She grabbed my head and tilted my face up and jammed her clit into my mouth.

  “Now suck me off,” she ordered through gritted teeth, her clit like rock and already jumping. She bucked her hips and pumped her clit in and out of the circle of my lips, jerking herself off in my mouth and muttering, “Uh uh uh.”

  She was starting to come, so I sucked her just hard enough to keep her clit in my mouth. I wanted it to last for her.

  “Here it comes, baby,” she gasped, her fingers trembling in my hair. “Get ready to swallow. Sweet baby, you’re making me come.”

  I clutched her ass and yanked her hard against my face, sucking her clit in to the root and clamping my teeth around it. She cried out and ejaculated on my face and down my neck and I felt her legs go. I wrapped my arms tightly around her thighs to hold her up because I knew she would hate to go down in front of everybody. When she stopped coming I licked up the juice that clung to her cunt and tongued her clit until she murmured a protest and pulled away.

  Somehow I got my legs under me and heaved myself to my feet, hauling my pants up with me. My clit was still so tender I couldn’t zip up. She backed me into the pole again and leaned her arms on either side of my head so she could lick her come off my face. Her whole body trembled and I risked putting my arms around her.

  “That was sweet, baby,” she whispered so no one else could hear.

  I kissed her and she let me, and as I played my tongue inside her hot mouth, I realized that I had been wrong about what I had been looking for. What she had given me was sweeter than sweet.

  X-RATED EXES

  L. Elise Bland

  “Pull his pants down!” the men yelled from the sidelines as I danced around and tormented their friend onstage. His lunch buddies had bought him a special birthday dance. For sixty dollars extra, they treated him to a humiliating fifteen minutes of fame in the “spanking cage” with two rambunctious strippers—Desiree and me. Out of all the dancers, I always had the most fun with Desiree. She was just my age and just kinky enough to make me love my work. We had been flirting for weeks, but we couldn’t let ourselves get too distracted onstage. We had spanking to do.

  After situating the customer’s hands loosely over his head in faux bondage, I slipped the leather belt out of the loops of his starched jeans and got to work on his rear while Desiree rubbed her Texas-sized breasts against his chest. We performed our usual routine of undressing, grinding, slapping, and strapping, much to the delight of the birthday party at our feet.

  “Spank him! Harder!” his friends called out. I reared my arm back and slapped his boxers with a flourish of fancy swats. When all was said and done, our birthday boy ended up on his hands and knees, his T-shirt up around his armpits, and his leather belt looped into a leash around his neck. For the grand finale, I led him around by the belt while Desiree sat on his back, waving one arm in the air as if she were riding mechanical bull. Wild applause broke out all across the main floor of the club.

  Stage spanking is different from real spanking. First of all, the spankees are usually rowdy and drunk, so the spanking has to be dramatic enough for entertainment, yet light enough for safety. Second, it’s just not quite as much fun to spank a stranger. There is no real connection. The guy walks off the stage rubbing his ass to impress his friends, but in the end, it’s all for show.

  Once the birthday ruckus subsided, Desiree and I went back to our respective stages and a blaring, midafternoon calmness settled in. Between two and four o’clock, the polite cowboys and mild-mannered businessmen clear out and all the perverts creep into the dark, dirty corners of the club. I usually take a break after lunch to avoid the freaks, but, through the flashing lights, I spotted a familiar face heading toward my stage. It was Erin, my ex. Well, she wasn’t really my ex, but my ex-fuckbuddy. I had had no idea a female customer was on the premises, much less somebody who had seen me naked far beyond the limits of my thong.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her. I bent down to the edge of the stage and, in spite of the stale bar stench, I could still detect her familiar “earth-friendly” shampoo. Her shaggy dark hair had grayed around her temples, but she still had the same cocky smile. I remembered her full lips all too well; they were always in a state of motion, sometimes eating me out, and other times telling me good-bye.

  Erin was proof that a fuckbuddy relationship just didn’t work for me. I am too much of a romantic. Somehow I always ended up getting fucked, and not in the good way. And anybody who has ever been on the receiving end of the “just friends” speech knows how painful it can be. Technically, Erin didn’t break my heart because we never had a relationship. Still, I would have taken her back, at least for one night—that was all she could ever promise me anyway.

  “I saw you up there spanking that guy,” she said in a suspicious tone. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself a little too much. I didn’t think you were into guys.”

  “No, not guys so much as spanking. I’m equal opportunity when it comes to playtime. You trained me well, huh?” Erin had taught me exactly how good a spanking could be, especially when you are getting done doggy-style with a strap-on. Back in the day, I was such a bottom I couldn’t get enough of it. But once I got my hands on somebody else’s ass, I was hooked. Hearing the slaps ring out and feeling the heat bloom under my palms sent me soaring. Over the years, I had become an expert spanker, even better than my ex.

  “Come over when you get a chance,” she told me. “I’m in VIP.”

  “Okay, but only if you’ll buy a dance.”

  “No problem,” she said and sauntered back to her seat.

  Soon after that I found her in VIP on a leather sofa, her legs spread like a guy’s, waiting for me to sit in her lap. With an ex, everything is easier; there’s no getting-to-know-you time. After minimal chatter, I started my table dance and took off my bra. Being pressed up against her body once again brought back good memories as well as nasty fantasies. I usually think of other things during a dance—hair appointments, groceries, new tires for my truck—but with her, it was uncomfortably different. As much as I tried to distract myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about her muscular fingers, her wicked mouth, and the outrageous collection of medieval-looking sex toys that she kept under her bed. I knew I was getting in over my head, but I didn’t care. When I pulled my skirt up to do my infamous butt grind, she gave me a familiar slap on the ass.

  “Ouch,” I squealed.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “You’d better not have left a mark! I have to work tomorrow. Kiss it and make it better.” She pulled my ass up into her face and caressed my cheeks with her strong tongue and hands. Before I knew it, she had moved my T-back to one side. I felt a sudden, cool breeze of air-conditioning, and then the wet heat of her mouth as it slid all along my pussy. I tried to turn around and stop her so I wouldn’t get in trouble with the manager, but she held me still.

  “Don’t worry,” she said in a low voice. “Nobody’s looking.”

  Her fingers reached around and quickly found my clit. I placed my hand over hers so she would let go, but soon found myself guiding her like a trusty vibrator. She swirled and licked my pussy in perfect rhythm with the music. I had forgotten how good she was, and how quickly she could get me off. For a moment, I lost my professional façade and felt a wave of unstoppable pleasure sneaking up on me right there in the club. I really didn’t want to get off. After all, I was at work. I tried to shut my mind down, but she kept me at the brink of orgasm until I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to let go, but then we were interrupted. Suddenly, at the most awkwar
d time, we had a curious visitor at the table, my friend Desiree.

  “Hey, what’s going on up here?” she asked, swinging her little purse and jiggling her cocktail. I don’t know why she even bothered asking. Wasn’t it obvious? I was laid over the table getting tongue-fucked by a female customer.

  “Why didn’t you invite me?” Desiree seemed intrigued, but also disappointed. We had always tag-teamed with male customers, but this situation was different, especially since the customer was a woman.

  “Shut up,” I panted. “Just stand there in front of us so nobody can see.” As ordered, she turned her beautiful ass around right in front of my face. Desiree always goes for a classic French bustier with stockings and garters, so there is never coverage on her cheeks. The lacy red and black thong ran right up the center of what I had always longed to lick. It was all too much for me to take—Erin’s tongue on my pussy and Desiree’s very spankable and lickable ass in my face. I reached across the table and grabbed her soft hips to stabilize myself. After one last slap from Erin, I came so hard my ankles nearly lost control of my stilettos.

  Erin yanked me back so I wouldn’t slide off the table. I sank into the cool, leather sofa in ecstasy. We never even kissed that day, but I didn’t care. There is nothing like sex with your ex, especially when you realize you are finally over her. I lay there staring at the flashing colored lights until I was able to speak again.

  “Thanks for the cover-up, Desiree,” I winked. “This is my buddy Erin.” Without asking, Desiree plopped herself right down on Erin’s knee. “Erin is the one who taught me to spank,” I added.

  “And Elise is the one who taught me,” Desiree announced proudly.

  “She taught you well,” Erin said. “You seemed to be having fun whooping that cowboy’s ass earlier.”

  “I was,” Desiree laughed. “But I am more into being spanked, as long as it’s light and sexy. Nothing too severe.”

  I exchanged looks with Erin. My pussy was still throbbing from the crazy orgasm, and the adrenaline in my veins was churning so hard, it had even drowned out the pounding music. I was up for anything. I whispered into Erin’s ear and then pulled Desiree across me on the sofa so that her feet were in Erin’s lap.